


Up the Hill Towards Home

by AR_Smithe



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 1970s, Alternate Universe, Coming of Age, Complicated Relationships, Crushes, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Family, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Marauders, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Original Character(s), Pining, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2020-09-28 00:22:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 26,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20416787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AR_Smithe/pseuds/AR_Smithe
Summary: Unassuming and shy, fifteen-year old Rose Evans had accepted a dismal family life, few friends, and living in the shadow of her sister Lily. A new friendship with her brother-in-law’s best mate, however, has Rose questioning everything she’s ever known. As Sirius takes her under his wing, Rose finds her crush on a certain bookish Marauder blossoming, as for the first time she begins to believe herself deserving of something more.





	1. The Wedding

“Knut for your thoughts?”

Rose looked up to see Sirius Black smirking down at her, grey eyes narrowed mischievously. She flushed, suddenly aware of the fact that for the past hour, she’d been glued to her seat, sipping from a stolen flute of champagne and alternating between gazing at a yet-untouched slice of cake and the first page of the book she’d brought.

“Hi,” Rose stammered, studiously avoiding eye contact with Sirius’ glimmering orbs. “Nothing – just – I’m having a good time.” She gestured vaguely at the plate of cake in front of her while trying to inconspicuously edge the nearly-empty glass of champagne farther down the table. “I’ve got cake, so … yeah.”

Rose flushed deeper, frustrated that something wittier hadn’t come to mind. Risking a glance up at Sirius again, she was startled to see that he was no longer standing, having pulled out and sat down in the chair next to hers.

Sirius looked at her, his eyes softening to hold something more like kindness. If he’d noticed the underage drinking, he at least hadn’t mentioned it. “It’s your sister’s wedding. You shouldn’t be hiding out on the fringes with nothing but cake and some old book for company. There’s music playing, merriment to be had. Go on, have a bit of fun.”

Rose stammered again. “I am – I mean, I’m not hiding.” She paused. “You know who I am?”

At this, Sirius threw back his head and laughed, instantly transforming his face from a mere aristocratic handsomeness to something warmer and infinitely more appealing. “Of course I know who you are! Don’t be silly.” He winked at her, making her suddenly feel as though the two of them were in on some kind of shared joke. “I’d be a piss poor best man if I didn’t know about the sister of the bride.”

“Plus,” Sirius continued, leaning back in his chair a bit, “We all went to Hogwarts together. With James as obsessed with your sister as he was, we all received regular updates on Lily’s life, and that includes you.”

Sirius was still smiling, and though his good looks were slightly unnerving, Rose found his relaxed manner putting her progressively more at ease. She smiled timidly. “I guess that was a silly question.”

Sirius shrugged, still cheerful. Emboldened by his easy charm, Rose ventured a question of her own. “What are you doing over here then? Shouldn’t the best man be more at the center of things?”

“Ah, but as the best man, it’s my job to make sure everything and everyone is in tip top shape. I couldn’t just leave the sister of the bride on her own to look so quiet and mysterious.”

It was Rose’s turn to shrug, not having much of a response but privately scoffing at him thinking her _mysterious_. The two fell into silence. On Rose’s end, it was intensely uncomfortable. She couldn’t help but imagine what Sirius might be thinking, how he might be judging little Rose Evans who was so awkward that she’d exiled herself to the most remote table at her own sister’s wedding. Rose hadn’t meant to hide away, really she hadn’t. Upon arriving at the wedding, though, she was instantly overwhelmed.

A whole three and a half years apart, Rose and Lily didn’t have very many mutual friends. Lily had been kind, of course, placing a pretty flower in her sister’s hair and including her in the bridal party. Lily had beamed as she’d presented her sister to each of the other bridesmaids, most of them from Lily’s own year at Hogwarts.

After the marriage vows, however, as Lily and James had celebrated with their dearest school friends, Rose had begun to feel like more and more of an outsider. She was the only representative of the Evans family in attendance, and it was made that much more obvious as James had stood, surrounded by his parents and Sirius Black, who was as good as a brother.

Next to her sister, too, Rose had felt gangly and uncomfortable, standing nearly half a foot taller than Lily with long, awkward limbs to match. So Rose had waited until James and Lily were sufficiently distracted, laughing at something Sirius had said, and had stolen away, snatching a plate of cake from the dessert display and plopping herself down at a table as far away as possible from the other guests.

Grasping for anything to break the silence, Rose turned to Sirius again. She was shocked to find him already looking at her, eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Where’s the other Evans girl? Your eldest sister?”

At the mention of Petunia, Rose couldn’t help but purse her lips. “She couldn’t make it. Vacation.”

“You live together, though, don’t you? Didn’t want to take you along for family fun times?”

There was an awkward pause. “I snuck out. She doesn’t know I’m here,” Rose admitted.

Sirius’ eyebrows shot up. “You’re quite the rulebreaker, aren’t you? Never knew you had it in you.” Though he was surely joking, something about Sirius’ tone held real weight, as though he was considering Rose in a new light. It was this note of sincerity that caused Rose to blanch, suddenly remembering that she’d confessed her rule-breaking to someone she barely knew, someone closer to her sister and brother-in-law than to her. 

“Don’t tell Lily and James,” she begged quietly. Lily had no idea that Rose had disobeyed Petunia’s mandate to avoid _that wedding _at all costs. It would only hurt her middle sister to know the truth.

In fact, there was no vacation at all. At that exact moment, Petunia was most likely sticking her long, bony neck over the hedge of Number 4 Privet Drive, all the better to spy on the neighbors. As far as she was concerned, Rose would be spending the day at a school training. All Rose had had to do was to mention anything related to Hogwarts for Petunia to ignore her, shaking her head and muttering under her breath about unnaturalness.

Sirius considered her for a moment, still so solemn and contemplating. “Don’t worry, Rosie. I won’t tell big sister what you’ve been up to.”

Rose crinkled her nose, momentarily forgetting her shyness. “My name’s Rose, you know,” she said sharply, or as sharply as she could manage anyway. “Only my family calls me Rosie.”

This only got Sirius laughing again. “Well, good thing we’re as good as family now, isn’t it? I’m as close to a brother as James’ll ever have, you know,” he confided as though this was a secret, as though all of Hogwarts was ignorant of the infamously close bond between the Marauders, as they liked to call themselves. Rose just hummed, glancing at the champagne on the edge of her vision, desperate for any kind of distraction. As nice as it was to gaze at Sirius Black’s handsome features up close, this conversation unnerved her. Rose still wasn’t sure why he’d approached, and from what she knew of Sirius Black, she didn’t trust his motivations in the slightest.

Rose cleared her throat, trying for her best approximation of Petunia’s most authoritative tone. “Well, thank you for checking on me, Sirius, but you don’t have to bother anymore. As you can see, I’m having a good time here with my book and my cake.”

“And your champagne?” Sirius finished for her, and any attempt at assertiveness flew out the window as Rose grimaced.

“You won’t tell Lily, will you?” she pleaded.

“I’ve already told you I’ve got your back,” Sirius replied, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. He studied her again. “Come on now, Rosie, you’d really go to all the trouble of keeping secrets from those near and dear just to sit at a table with a book? Live a little.”

Lacking a rebuttal, she shrugged meekly. “I like books.”

Sirius chuckled to himself, and Rose frowned, sure she was being mocked. “What’s so funny about that?” she couldn’t help but ask.

“Nothing, nothing. I just got the feeling I’d had this conversation before, with someone else.”

He stood then, extending a hand. “Dance with me,” he offered, and accompanied the request with that charming smile of his. Rose was quite positive now that he knew what he was doing with those smiles and winks. She considered his hand for a moment. The idea of dancing with Sirius Black, sure to draw the attention of everyone in the room, made her nauseated, but she couldn’t deny that she enjoyed the attention a bit. The way Sirius had looked into her eyes and smiled made her feel as though he knew her, in a much deeper sense than just Lily Potter’s baby sister.

“I-,” Rose began, still unsure of how to answer. Scanning the room for a polite out, her eyes caught sight of a familiar figure. “Is that Remus Lupin?”

Sirius followed her gaze, nodding when he spotted the other man as well. “Yep, though he’s late, the berk.”

Rose felt a hot, uncomfortable blush crawl up her skin, beginning at her neck this time. If Sirius noticed, he was polite enough not to mention it.

He did, however, wave wildly to his friend. “Remus! Oi! Over here!”

As Remus Lupin turned to make his way over to them, Rose did her best to control her facial muscles, not looking at his features any more than necessary. She hadn’t seen Remus Lupin since he’d graduated Hogwarts, yet somehow in only a year, he’d aged. His often-lively brown eyes were tired, weary-looking, and Rose could just barely spot faint circles underneath. In spite of those changes, though, Lupin had largely retained his easy good-looks, and had even filled out in a way that enhanced them. Lupin had always been tall, significantly more so than James and Sirius, and Rose couldn’t help but notice that he now had shoulders to match. Rather than giving him a look like Vernon Dursley, she noted with satisfaction, they drew attention to the fact that Lupin was occupying manhood, strong and grown in a way that he hadn’t looked as a boy at Hogwarts.

Unfortunately, Rose’s reaction to him had not changed so much as Remus’ looks, and she felt her stomach swoop familiarly as her heart began to pound. As Remus got closer, she averted her eyes to avoid being caught staring.

Sirius grinned. “You certainly took your time, Moony. Although I have to say,” he continued, considering, “you might’ve again proved yourself the smartest of all of us avoiding all the boring ceremony nonsense.”

Rose looked up to see Remus roll his eyes good naturedly. “Only you would strategically skip a ceremony just to make it to the reception, Pads. I would’ve gotten here sooner, but-“ He paused, as though for the first time noticing Rose’s presence. “_Work_ had me quite preoccupied, unfortunately.”

Rose was surprised to see Sirius’ expression darken at that, but his tone remained light. “Nothing you couldn’t handle, I’m sure.”

Remus swallowed and shrugged. “It’s boring, truly. We can talk later if you feel you must know.”

Turning to Rose, he smiled warmly. “Hello. Rose, right? I remember seeing you with Lily sometimes, while we were still at Hogwarts. I’m Remus Lupin. Your sister’s mentioned me before, maybe.” Rose just stared, shocked that Remus Lupin of the Marauders felt the need to introduce himself to her. Remembering herself, she just barely managed a small nod. If she’d opened her mouth she might have revealed that she’d have known Remus without Lily even having had to mention him once.

Remus continued smiling, now making a show of admiring her dress. “That’s a very pretty dress.” He gestured at his own, shabbier and unembellished robes. “You’re making me feel underdressed. Has Lily made you a bridesmaid, then?”

Blushing yet pleased with what she knew was a courtesy compliment, Rose mumbled out a quiet, “Yes.”

Sirius looked as though he might laugh, but Rose couldn’t spit out any more than that one word. She was still in shock that he knew her name, though she supposed Sirius did say that James had mentioned her a fair amount while they were at school.

Remus was kind, though, and he smiled warmly at her. “Well, I hope you’re enjoying the party. I’m sure it means a lot to Lily that you could make it, especially since Petunia can’t be here.”

“Yes. I am.” There, two words now. Rose glanced down at her shoes, examining a scuff mark on one of the perfectly shiny, pale blue patent heels.

Sirius, finally taking pity on her inability to converse properly, jumped back into the conversation. “We were just talking about how much Rosie likes to read, Moony. She’s even brought a book to a wedding reception.” Sirius shook his head, as though saying, _Can you believe how odd this duck is?_

Remus grinned, going from polite kindness to genuine interest. “Don’t let him make fun of you, Rose. Sirius could stand to crack a book every once in a while. I’m sure his few remaining brain cells would thank him for the stimulation.”

“Oh very funny you old bookworm. I might even be hurt if it weren’t common knowledge what a genius I am. More of a genius, if anything, for being so smart without needing to stuff my nose in a book all the time,” Sirius sniffed, but the gleam of humour in his eyes made it clear that this type of banter was welcome and entirely familiar.

Remus chuckled, turning back to Rose. “What are you reading?”

“Me?” she squeaked, not having expected the conversation to turn to her once more. “It’s not very interesting.” She paused, considering how the boys might react. “It’s a muggle book, actually.”

Rose instantly felt foolish for expecting any kind of negative reaction, as Remus just nodded encouragingly. “I find it hard to believe a not very interesting book could distract you from your sister’s wedding. Which one is it?”

Rose held up the cover, revealing the title of the book in faded yellow lettering.

“_The Catcher in the Rye!_ I think I read that when I must’ve been around your age,” Remus exclaimed. “Mind you, I don’t think it was half so shocking hearing about what that boy got up to given my choice in friends.” 

Rose smiled, and it suddenly felt as though she and Remus were two old schoolmates, joking about past memories. Books, too, were something she could talk about. They were familiar and straightforward and didn’t require any personal admissions thank the lord.

“I actually haven’t started. I’d just heard all the commotion about it, figured it’d be worth a read.”

“It’s good,” Remus stated matter-of-factly, “but it’s not exactly an uplifting book. Probably not the best reading material to have at a wedding.”

“I needed something new.” Rose blushed sheepishly. “I’d been re-reading my favorite for far too long.”

“Go on then,” Remus encouraged, sitting down in the seat next to her. It seemed that books were the way to his heart. “What’s your favorite?”

“_Jane Eyre. _I must’ve read it ten times by now.” Rose had loved the first time she’d opened the book to find a heroine as quiet and unassuming as herself. Jane too felt like an outsider, someone who’d never attract attention. It gave Rose a quiet rush of satisfaction to be able to commiserate with the fictional governess. Plus, the romance didn’t hurt.

Remus grinned. “That’s one of my mum’s favorites. I’ve read it, of course, to appease her, but it ended up being quite good, actually. Still,” his smile turned cheeky, “a bit of a bummer as well. You’ve started me thinking that you’re quite dark, Rose Evans.”

Rose flushed just to hear him say her name and risked a smile as well. It took only a few seconds staring into Remus’ kind brown eyes, however, before she blurted out, as a distraction, “Do you have a favorite? Muggle novel, I mean.”

Remus mused for a few seconds, stroking his nose in contemplation. “It’s not one book, but I quite like Shakespeare. _Macbeth _is brilliant. Have you read him?”

Rose shook her head, still a bit overwhelmed by having Remus Lupin directly next to her. Their arms were inches apart, easily close enough to touch.

“Well, you’ll have to get started on him next. Once you’re done with that one there,” he gestured to the forgotten book lying on the table, “I’d be happy to chat about it with you. It’s a rare day when I can get my friends to appreciate a good book, let alone a muggle one.”

Sirius took this as his cue to jump into the conversation, huffing out good naturedly, “Oh shove off Moony. Besides, you should probably go over and make nice with Prongs. It’s his wedding you’re late to, after all.”

“Excellent advice, Pads.” Lupin stood, clasping Rose’s shoulder gently. She swore her skin heated and blistered at his touch. “It was good to meet you, Rose. Always happy to meet another fan of books.”

Rose couldn’t be sure, but she thought she nodded, as Lupin turned around and began making his way toward the happy couple. When she finally looked away, she noticed that Sirius was watching her intently.

“What?” She hissed self-consciously. After having faced Remus Lupin, Rose found the prospect of conversation with Sirius Black infinitely less daunting.

“Do you,” Sirius began slowly, looking from her to Lupin’s back. “Do you _like_ Remus?”

“_No_,” Rose choked out, feeling her throat tighten and prickle with embarrassment. Sirius’ eyebrows were raised, though, and he eyed her expectantly, entirely disbelieving.

“Sirius, no. I don’t- I mean, of course I admire Remus. I mean, I admire you too. And James. You’re all admirable young men. I don’t-“ she cut herself off, taking a deep breath.

“I’m not sure if you’ve noticed,” she began slowly, “but I’m not the best at speaking full stop. I get nervous and I’m quiet and the words don’t come out the way that I mean for them to.” In fact, Rose realized, this was probably the longest sentence she’d spoken all night.

To her relief, Sirius nodded, probably remembering her awful attempts at conversation earlier. “Okay Rosie,” he murmured. “I believe you.”

She wasn’t sure what it was, but looking into his clear grey eyes, Rose started to feel at ease for the first time that night. Maybe it was because he hadn’t mocked her, as Petunia might’ve, or because he hadn’t treated her like a child, as Lily certainly would have.

Or maybe it was because he’d just deftly maneuvered her glass of her champagne back in front of her.

“Padfoot! Get over here!” They both turned to see James Potter waving to them, one arm slung around Remus Lupin’s shoulders, the other playfully pulling a shorter, mousy looking man in for a hug. In one smooth movement, Sirius was standing again, looking down on her thoughtfully.

“Well, I guess I should be going.” As he began approaching the groom, Sirius turned back briefly. “Don’t be a stranger, Rosie,” he called out, but it wasn’t the kind of farewell that required a response, so Rose quirked her lips instead.

Shooting back the rest of her champagne, she found that her conversation with Sirius had given her a burst of confidence, or maybe that was the alcohol. She stood, wincing when her legs groused achily from lack of use, and made her way to Lily, who had migrated to a spot off the dance floor, seemingly content to watch her husband and his friends enjoy themselves for a while.

When she spied Rose, Lily’s face broke into a smile, instantly putting the younger girl at ease. They may not have spoken as much anymore, but this beautiful woman in front of her was still her sister, was still the Lily who’d run about and played with her as a child.

“You look beautiful, Lily,” Rose said quietly, pleased that her words came forth easily and smoothly now.

Lily tucked a piece of Rose’s hair behind her ear. “So do you, Rosie. You look so grown-up in your dress, I hardly recognize you.”

It was an intimate gesture, leaving Rose uncomfortable and twitchy. She grasped for a subject change. “I’m sorry Tuney couldn’t be here. I mean, she was sorry too. She told me.” Lily knew Petunia well enough to suspect this to be untrue, but she didn’t protest and instead offered Rose a small, sad smile.

“Well, aren’t I lucky that I could have my best little sister here to make up for it.”

“I’m your only little sister,” Rose scoffed, and Lily grinned impishly in a very James Potter-like fashion.

The two girls stood there for a few moments, Rose having run out tidbits to fill the silence with. In front of her, she could see that the boys had paired up, James and Remus spinning about the floor in a waltz, Sirius dragging a clumsy Peter across the room for what appeared to be a tango. Rose couldn’t help but admire the way Remus’ shoulder length hair shone in the light and how handsome his face was as he laughed. As his brown eyes crinkled pleasantly, the circles under them became almost invisible. Remus turned and met her eyes, then, offering a warmer smile just for her, and Rose quickly glanced away, embarrassed to have been caught staring. Lily was watching too, it seemed, with a much fonder expression than she’d ever held for them in school.

“I saw you and Sirius chatting before.” Of course her sister was the first to break the silence, always so good at placating and peace-making.

Rose shrugged. “Yeah. He just came over, said he wanted to chat. He seems nice.”

Lily smiled. “I have to say, I never thought I’d be saying this, but he’s a good man. They all are,” she continued, gesturing to the Marauders, whose dancing had begun to look dangerously close to wrestling by now. “They’re James’ family. He’s lucky to have them. I am too.”

She paused, and if Rose didn’t know her beautiful, confident sister any better, she’d think Lily was nervous. “They can be your family too, you know. Of course, I’m your family. But if you should ever need us, any of us, at all.” Lily reached out to pat Rose’s cheek. “We’re here for you.”

She cleared her throat and said the next part quickly, as though to get it over with. “James and I have a really nice flat, with plenty of rooms. Remus already stays there sometimes, and Sirius is just round the corner. You’re welcome to stay with us anytime. When you’re not at school, anyway.”

Rose puckered her lips, uncomfortable with what Lily was suggesting. “I appreciate it, Lils, but you know I have to live with Petunia till I’m of age. I have a home.”

Lily blushed, and Rose was struck with how strange it was to see confident Lily Potter so awkward, for once. “I know that. Of course I know that. I just thought-“ she cut herself off, searching for the right words. “Are Petunia and Vernon treating you well?”

Rose bristled at the abrupt change of subject. “I’m fine. Obviously I’m fine. I think I would’ve said, if there were a problem.”

“Of course you’re fine,” Lily soothed, reaching out to catch Rose’s arm, but Rose took a step back, out of her reach. “I just worry, is all. You’ve been so quiet, Rosie, and then you come here and you sit all by yourself for hours. I just want to make sure you know that you have people in your corner. I just want to make sure you’re alright.”

“Well, thanks, but I don’t need to be mothered actually,” Rose huffed. “I don’t know why you’re choosing now of all times to take any interest anyway.” The bitterness in her own words shocked her and seemed to shock Lily as well.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lily’s green eyes were filled with hurt, and Rose sighed, arranging her features into their usual meek, unreadable mask.

“Nothing. I’m sorry. I’m just a bit tired, I think.”

Lily nodded, brow still furrowed with concern. Forcing a smile, Rose patted the top of her sister’s hand. “You should go have fun. It’s your special day, and I’m so happy for you.”

Lily nodded again, still seeming slightly shaken, but she made her way to the dancefloor, where James and Sirius grabbed her and began to spin her around the room in a circle.

She was happy for her sister, Rose thought. She certainly didn’t despise Lily, the way Petunia surely did. But as she made her way back to her seat, which she would occupy for the rest of the night, she still couldn’t fully banish the small squalling creature inside of her that was awakened by her sister’s words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a lot happens in this chapter, and I know some of it may not make sense, but it sets the stage for some things that I'll be working towards over the course of the story (it's going to be pretty long).


	2. Peculiar Post

The following Saturday after the wedding, Rose received a letter.

It had been a perfectly normal day otherwise. Rose had risen at dawn, nibbling on a piece of dry toast before Petunia and Vernon had even woken, and had hidden herself in the back garden with a book. Having finished _Catcher in the Rye _a few days earlier, she’d taken Remus’ advice and started in on Shakespeare. Petunia, of course, would never be caught dead with a copy of _Macbeth, _a play that was as offensively magical as Rose and Lily were, but there had been a neglected copy of _Romeo and Juliet_ in between _Christina Foyle’s Party Book_ and _How to Be A Successful Executive_ on one of the Dursleys’ few bookshelves.

Rose had just settled herself into the grass, enjoying the feel of the mild June sun on her face, when a scream rang out from the house.

“EVANS!”

Rose groaned at the sound of Vernon Dursley’s voice coming through the kitchen window. Carefully concealing the book underneath the garden hedge, Rose hurried to the kitchen.

“Ev-“ Vernon cut himself off when he noticed her entrance. He’d recently grown out a large, bushy mustache which was currently quivering like some kind of angry caterpillar on his face. Any humour the image might have provided, however, was quashed by the rest of the scene.

Next to Vernon, lips pursed into non-existence, sat Petunia Dursley, gazing down her long, thin nose in disapproval. And next to Petunia, making himself quite at home and enjoying a plate full of sausages, was a large, beautiful eagle owl.

Rose swallowed. “Um, good morning Vernon. Good morning Petunia.” Perhaps, if she ignored the owl, she could pretend it had nothing to do with her.

“Good morning?” Vernon repeated dangerously. “That’s all you have to say, Evans? Is it a good morning? You haven’t noticed anything _amiss_?” At the word _amiss,_ Vernon’s mustache trembled ferociously, drawing attention to a small bit of sausage that was stuck and dancing around with it.

Turning away from the temptation to laugh, Rose glanced at the owl out of the corner of her eye. So much for feigning ignorance. “Well. I guess you’re upset about the owl.”

“Upset about the owl?” Vernon parroted, having apparently lost the ability to form sentences of his own. “I should think so, girl! Are owls on kitchen tables what you would deem a _normal_ occurrence?”

“No, Vernon.”

“No,” Vernon echoed triumphantly, as though a lawyer making a winning case. “No, they are not. So explain to me why it is that there is a large bird of prey sitting on my kitchen table, _eating _my breakfast,_” _at this he swatted at the owl, cursing loudly when it nipped his fingers, “and holding a letter with _your _name on it?”

Rose’s eyes widened in surprise. She’d assumed Hogwarts had sent some kind of letter to Petunia, something to do with her guardianship. She’d never received a personal letter the entire two years she’d been living with her sister. Lily and James had known well enough to send the wedding invite through the muggle post.

“I don’t know, Vernon.”

Vernon’s small black eyes narrowed even further. “Not,” he spat, “a good enough answer, Evans.”

“We agreed to take you in out of the goodness of our own hearts and asked so little of you in return,” Petunia chimed in long-sufferingly. Something deep inside of Rose yowled angrily at the injustice of it all. As if anyone had had a choice in this situation. The muggle authorities weren’t likely to have granted custody to Lily, who’d been a seventeen-year-old child (by their standards anyway), and Rose had needed someone to look after her.

“No unnaturalness! Nothing from that freak school, nothing about your good for nothing sister and her good for nothing husband! Nothing to do with that freaky existence of yours! Those were the terms! Is it so beyond your intelligence to follow the simplest of directives?” A vein had begun throbbing in Vernon’s forehead, and even Petunia looked concerned, placing a bony hand on his arm.

“It’s not my fault!” she snapped out, realizing too late that she’d deviated from her usual script of silence and apologies. Something about their expressions as they’d berated her had awakened that same angry, primal creature she’d discovered at Lily’s wedding. _How dare they?_ Something cold and furious whispered inside of her. _How dare they treat you like you’re nothing, less than dirt?_

Petunia and Vernon looked shocked for a few moments, before Vernon’s face flushed violet. “How _dare_ you girl? After taking advantage of our hospitality for years now, you worthless, good-for-nothing-“

“I’m sorry, Vernon,” Rose said quietly, snapping at the voice inside of her to _shut up_.

“I don’t want to hear that you’re _sorry, _girl. I want this damned bird gone and I want nothing like this to ever happen again in this house. Or you’ll be out on the streets, do you hear?”

“Yes, Vernon,” Rose answered softly, already regretting her moment of outspokenness. The angry thing inside of her had slithered away, and she was left feeling hollow and weary. “I’ll get rid of the owl.” Approaching the table hesitantly, she held out her arm for the bird, letting out an internal sigh of relief when it immediately hopped to her.

Holding the bird to her chest, Rose scurried back out the door to the garden, huddling down behind the shed to open her letter.

Vernon hadn’t been lying. Tied to the bird’s leg, perilously close to its dangerous-looking talons, was a simple white scroll, with the name _Rose Evans_ messily scrawled over the front. Untying the scroll, Rose peered at it, trying to puzzle out who’d have sent her a letter. She was friendly enough with her dormmates, but she’d never been so close as to receive post from them over the summer holidays. She had no other friends to speak of. She’d always blended in, feeling so uncomfortably ignored and unsure of herself.

Unsealing the letter, Rose read its contents.

_Rosie – _

_It’s been a week! Don’t worry, I’m not offended. I know it must have been intimidating reaching out to me first, so I’ve saved you the trouble and done it for you!_

_Things are dreadfully boring here with James and your sister off frolicking in France or Frankfurt or Fiji. One of those with an F, I think. _

_Please, put me out of my misery, Rosie. Tell me something about that charming idyllic life you’ve been leading in the muggle suburbs. I eagerly await the tales of your adventures!_

_Sirius_

_P.S. The owl’s name is Joey and if you don’t give him treats when he arrives, he will help himself to whatever you have lying around. Don’t say I didn’t warn you._

Rose scoffed, looking from the majestic owl to his name, _Joey_, written on the parchment. In spite of her amusement, though, a real warmth was spreading through her. She’d gotten a letter. From Sirius Black, no less. He’d asked to hear from her, like he cared about what she had to say.

Looking at the owl, though, Rose debated for a moment about whether to reply. Vernon had made it abundantly clear, after all, that there was to be no more unnaturalness within the house.

_But this is the garden, _Rose mused to herself slyly, and that dark part of her rejoiced at the thought of disobeying the Dursleys.

Looking into the bird’s fierce orange eyes, Rose tried to make him understand. “Stay here please, Joey. You mustn’t let Vernon or Petunia see you.” Thinking quickly, she added, “If you stay out of sight, I’ll bring you something nice to eat.”

Joey gave no sign of having understood her, so Rose hoped for the best and scurried back inside, padding up the stairs to her room as quietly as she could. Grabbing a piece of parchment and a quill, she began to scratch out her return letter.

_Sirius –_

Immediately, Rose was stumped. What could she possibly write that Sirius Black would find interesting? She decided that simple would be best – the less she wrote, the less Sirius would have to judge her on.

_I don’t have my own owl, so writing you first was quite impossible. I regret to report that my summer is just as dull as yours, if not more so. My sister’s home is in a very ordinary, very boring muggle suburb. The most exciting thing that’s happened is our neighbors swapping out violets for carnations in their front garden. _

_Hope your summer picks up soon. _

_Rose (Still my name, it’s not changed)_

Letting her curiosity get the better of her, she added one last quick line.

_P.S. Where’d you come up with a name like Joey for an owl?_

After anxiously reading over the letter for spelling mistakes, Rose rolled it up and snuck back down the stairs. Vernon and Petunia had left for work and the living room, respectively, so Rose darted into the kitchen, stealthily lifting a slice of turkey from the fridge.

Back behind the shed, Joey was still there, giving no sign that he’d moved from that spot. Rose first held out the turkey, which the ferocious-looking creature devoured as though he hadn’t already consumed three breakfast sausages.

Tying the letter around the bird’s leg, Rose smiled at him softly. “Take this letter to Sirius, please.”

Joey cocked his head for several seconds before abruptly spreading his wings and taking off into the cloudless sky.

As she watched Joey become a mere speck in the sky, Rose truly expected that to be the end of it.

That’s why, when she ventured out to the garden early the next morning, she stumbled and nearly cried out at the sight of a large eagle owl glaring accusingly at her.

After offering Joey a piece of toast, Rose unrolled Sirius’ latest letter.

_Rosie (we’ve been over this, we’re family now, I’ll address you as such) – _

_But that’s thrilling! So sneaky and rebellious – did they even consult the neighborhood first?_

_All kidding aside, there must be something interesting going on in that house. Did you ever finish that book? The one Remus had read too? _

_My summer is still boring, though thanks for your well wishes. Work’s at a lull at the moment, which I can’t complain about, but it makes for a lot of long empty days. Write back soon and save me from this ennui. _

_Sirius_

_P.S. Joey after Joey Ramone, obviously. He is a badass and so is my owl._

Rose smiled, puzzled by the attention yet pleased to be talking with someone who could appreciate the stupidity of Privet Drive. She was also touched that Sirius had asked after the book she’d been reading. Petunia certainly never did, and she had doubts Vernon could read at all, let alone speak about literature. A tiny, negative part of her questioned the letters, but a much larger one basked in the glow of their attention

The words for a response came much easier this time, a genuine, less-filtered reaction to Sirius’ letter.

_Sirius – _

_Whoever they consulted was not my sister, so they’ve doubly transgressed in her eyes. _

_The book is called the Catcher in the Rye, and yes, I finished it a few days ago. It was good, but it left me feeling quite sad. Remus was right about it being a bit of a bummer. _

_Rose_

_P.S. I’m not sure who Joey Ramone is, but if he really is a badass, you’re right about the name. Joey the owl is very intimidating. _

That evening, as Rose lay on her bed with the copy of _Romeo and Juliet, _something tapped on her window. Putting a finger to her lips, Rose let in Joey to read Sirius’ speedy reply.

_Rosie – _

_I couldn’t confine this to a P.S. – it’s too important. _

_You’ve never heard of Joey Ramone?! Lead singer of the Ramones, one of the greatest punk bands of all time? Aren’t you supposed to be a muggleborn? _

_I’m very concerned about you Rosie. You’ve got me thinking that Number 4 Privet drive is really a rock you’re all living under. _

_In other news, what’s the latest book to catch your fancy? I probably won’t know it, but I’ll act like I do either way. _

_Sirius_

_P.S. Interesting tidbit about your sister – I’m sure you must have some funny stories to do with her and that husband of hers. Please, don’t hold back on my account. I’m all ears._

Rose smiled wistfully at the letter. No wonder she hadn’t heard of Joey Ramone. There was a strict ban on punk music in the Dursley household, and the closest thing to counterculture on Privet Drive was, now that she thought about it, the rebellious carnations in the Polkiss’ front garden.

Frowning down at the post script, Rose tried to figure out why Sirius would want to know about her boring muggle sister and boring muggle brother-in-law.

_Maybe he’s actually interested in my life, _she thought to herself. Although she’d been on her guard during their first meeting and with his subsequent letters, Sirius was proving himself a kind and keen acquaintance. He hadn’t laughed, at least. In fact, he seemed taken with most of what she had to say.

Rose remembered how he’d thrown his head back and laughed at the wedding. _Could I have impressed him? Charmed him?_ The thought that something about her had won over Sirius Black caused a warmth to spread through her, soothing the angry little creature that had lashed out at the Dursleys days before.

Smiling, Rose scrawled out a reply.

_Sirius – _

_Apologies for my ignorance. Punk Music is just one of the many things banned at Number 4 Privet Drive. Other contraband includes songs by men with long hair, neon colours, owls, the colour black, the play Macbeth, and any mention of the “M” word. And The Catcher in the Rye, surely, but that’s from my old house so I managed to sneak it in._

_As you can tell, it’s not a very thrilling life that I lead. Unfortunately, there isn’t much more to report about my sister and her husband. _

Considering, for a moment, Rose decided to tell him the truth.

_To be honest, we mostly avoid each other, which suits both parties just fine, I think. The fight over your owl was the most interaction we’d had all summer. _

Pursing her lips in contemplation, she quickly scribbled a detail she thought Sirius might find funny.

_It was hard not to laugh, though. Vernon has just grown a very bushy mustache, and it quivers like a living thing on his face when he’s angry. I’m not sure even Petunia likes it, because I’ve seen her grimacing a bit after they’ve kissed. She’d never say anything of course, and Vernon thinks it makes him look “distinguished,” so I guess it’s staying. _

_As mentioned above, I wasn’t able to get ahold of Macbeth, unfortunately, so I’m stuck reading the only Shakespeare in the house. Romeo and Juliet is alright, but it’s a bit too boring and sappy for my taste. _

_Rose_

Poring over the letter, Rose felt a moment’s hesitation over how much she’d revealed. She didn’t normally tell anyone about her dynamic with the Dursleys. Reading over what she’d written, though, she decided that just putting that they _avoided each other, _was vague enough to prevent any real insight on their situation.

Rose sent the letter with Joey, feeling a quiet thrill of fear and happiness over sharing her personal thoughts with another person for the first time in years.

That afternoon in the garden, two owls greeted her. Rose opened the letter from Joey first, making sure to offer him a small piece of ham from her sandwich for his trouble.

_Rosie – _

_ Your brother-in-law sounds like a catch. That mustache distinguishes him as a prat, maybe. _

_I hope they weren’t too hard on you about the owl. I didn’t even think about how anti-magic they might be, but Lily’s mentioned some things over the years, so I should’ve known. I assume you’ve found a way to hide him since we’re still exchanging letters now. _

_I think you’re right to just avoid them if they really are as terrible as you describe. I wish I’d been able to do that with my parents. They’d have been perfectly content to ignore me, by the end, but my temper and big mouth made that impossible, unfortunately. You’re a very strong person to be able to live the way you do, but let me know if you ever get sick of being ignored. We’d all love to have you for a visit to London sometime. _

_Sirius_

_P.S. Romeo and Juliet! My favorite – I love the part where they all go to Rome. I’ve told Remus about the book ban, though, and he’s sent you something that may help._

Rose stared at the letter for a long time, digesting its contents. She didn’t know much about Sirius’ family, beyond the basics. They were very old, very pureblood, and very Slytherin. It made sense that someone like Sirius wouldn’t have gotten along with them. Reading that someone else had felt what she felt about her family gave her a rush of relief.

She grimaced at the line about London. She’d probably have to stay with her sister, which was a wholly unappealing prospect. The two hadn’t spoken since the wedding, which wasn’t unusual. Her sister knew where to send post to, although she never had.

Ignoring, for the moment, the prospect of a visit with Lily, Rose scrambled over to the other bird, a much smaller, plainer looking tawny owl. On his leg was a neatly-wrapped parcel. Opening it, Rose read the note first.

_Rose –_

_Sirius told me that your sister has banned quality literature. I hope you don’t mind that I’ve taken it upon myself to rectify the situation. _

_Take as long with it as you’d like._

_Remus_

Turning to the rest of the parcel, Rose pulled out a thin book that had clearly seen better days. She gingerly opened the cover, skimming the contents. Along the margins of the tiny black type in a neat and tidy script were words. Exclamations like, _ha!_ or translations of some of the more archaic writing. _These are Remus’ notes, _Rose realized. The letter had been short and practical, and she knew Sirius had probably convinced him to send it, but the fact that Remus Lupin had sent her a letter made her swoon. Rose sat for several minutes, tracing his signature and imagining the way he might have looked as he’d signed it.

She finished the play that day. It was thrilling and dark and mysterious and left her crying into the grass as the sun set overhead.

Rose sent the owls, both of whom had dozed on the lawn next to her as she slept, with notes. A short thank you and proclamation of love for the play to Remus, and a longer letter to Sirius, mocking an overheard whinge from Vernon about being passed over for a promotion at his very important executive job (_Honestly Sirius, I really do think it was the mustache that was the death knell)_.

The next few weeks were glorious. In response to her letter, Remus had sent her _A Midsummer Night’s Dream_, another favorite of his, as well as _Wuthering Heights_, which turned out to be his mother’s copy – he’d borrowed it because he’d remembered her love of _Jane Eyre._

His letters were short and to the point, but he was always unfailingly polite and kind, taking the time to respond to what she’d thought with his own judgment of whatever book they were discussing. She was also able to learn about who Remus Lupin really was, little morsels, beyond the mythical status he’d occupied for her while he was at Hogwarts. Although he liked Macbeth, he mostly enjoyed plays with a little levity. He preferred prose to poetry, and, when she let slip her ignorance of most contemporary musicians, he mentioned that he loved anything by Peter Gabriel or Squeeze.

Sirius, meanwhile, responded enthusiastically to every ludicrous tidbit about the Dursleys that she happened to share. It made Rose feel both clever and normal, to have someone laugh with her over the abnormality of her sister’s family.

He also began sending her records. _The beginning of your music education_, he’d said, and so vinyl by bands called The Ramones, The Sex Pistols, and Joy Division began to pile up in the back of her wardrobe. These Rose snuck extra carefully into the living room, waiting until Petunia went out to the shops to turn the stereo down low and listen in illicit excitement. Too shy to request the artists Remus had mentioned, she was left waiting and hoping that Sirius might send them on his own someday.

It was freeing, to have something to look forward to besides a book on the long summer days at Privet Drive. Rose actually began to contemplate visiting London, if only to continue the human contact she’d become so dependent on throughout that June.

On the First of July, Rose woke early, the mid-summer heat drawing her out of sleep and suffusing the room with its oppressive weight. With a grimace at the temperature, she opened her window all the way, sighing in relief when the cooler outside air caressed her face. Grabbing the latest contraband book Remus had sent (_The Hobbit, _which was turning out to be quite thrilling indeed), Rose quickly escaped to the relative cool of the garden. Basking in the pleasantly toasty sunlight, she began to lose herself in the tale of Bilbo Baggins and his journey.

At lunchtime, Rose tore herself away from a thrilling account of an encounter with giant spiders for a sandwich and cool glass of water. There was a distinct lack of Petunia in the kitchen, the house quiet and still. Grinning at her good fortune, Rose clambered up the stairs to fetch the latest Sirius record, something by a wildly grinning bloke named Iggy Pop, of all things.

Flinging open the door to her room, Rose skidded to a halt abruptly in the doorway. Sitting in front of the still open window, scorching orange eyes fixed on her accusingly, was Joey. Next to him lay a letter, already untied and lying open. What had stopped Rose, however, was the sight of Petunia, a pile of letters clutched in her bony fingers and an expression of pure anger on her face.


	3. A Sibling Squabble

“Oh,” Rose croaked out.

“Oh,” Petunia echoed, her own voice smooth and controlled.

Rose felt a hot, uncomfortable panic rise from her chest to her throat, her cheeks flushed with it. “Listen, Tuney. I can explain. I’m so sorry, and I know you didn’t want owls in the house, but I was actually – I mean, the owls weren’t even in the house, so I thought it would be okay –“

“I don’t want to hear your excuses, Rose,” Petunia said icily. Rose shut up, any further explanations shriveling up at the sound of her name on her sister’s lips. Petunia barely acknowledged her presence most days; she couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard her sister speak her name.

For a few, tense moments, the girls regarded each other in silence. Rose held her breath, gaze fixed on Petunia’s watery blue eyes, more like hard chips of ice than liquid at the moment. Finally, Petunia sighed, shoulders slumping slightly.

“I’d wanted to have this conversation with Vernon here, but I suppose now’s as good a time as any,” she said wearily. “We’ve asked you, again and again, not to bring that – that _filth_ into this house. No, _don’t_ interrupt,” she added sharply as Rose opened her mouth to respond.

“I let you into my home two years ago, ignoring how uncomfortable it made me. I took you in against my better judgement, against what my own husband wanted. I gave you charity.”

Rose wet her lips. “Petunia, I-“

“And you’ve squandered it!” Petunia’s voice rang out into the room, cutting and entirely unexpected. Vernon was usually the one to lose control of his temper. Petunia preferred subtle jabs and cold disdain.

As angry as her sister’s words made her, something in Petunia’s tone stopped that fierce creature from resurfacing, both it and Rose frightened past the ability to protest.

Petunia’s eyes narrowed, and she clutched her hands tightly, collecting herself. “Vernon and I are enrolling you in the _Weldings School for Young Women _in the fall. You won’t be returning to _that school _any longer.”

Rose stared at Petunia, shocked into silence. Finally, she managed, “That school? You mean Hogwarts?”

Petunia nodded stiffly, puckered lips quivering slightly at the word _Hogwarts_. “It’s the sister school to Smeltings – Vernon’s alma mater. Marge attended. It’s a very well-respected institution.”

It was seeming peculiarly as though Petunia was trying to make her feel better about the situation. As though her words were anything but a direct attack against everything Rose was.

She shook her head. “I don’t understand, Petunia. I know that I messed up this time, and I’m sorry, but I’ve told you that I won’t ever do it again. What difference does it make if I go to Hogwarts or not?”

Petunia said nothing, and, frustrated, Rose lashed out. “My magic has no effect on your life!” she spat, placing particular emphasis on the word “magic.” Her efforts achieved their desired effect. Petunia was suddenly standing.

“You’re so disrespectful, Rose,” Petunia said, her tone no longer the carefully controlled, posh housewife. This was the Tuney of their youth, squabbling with Rose petulantly. “Think about other people, for once, you ungrateful cow.”

“That’s not an answer,” Rose ground out.

Narrowing her eyes, Petunia looked at her meanly. “Fine. You want an answer?” She looked down, gaze softening a hair. “Vernon and I are trying to start our family soon. With any luck we’ll have a baby in the house by next summer.”

She lifted her eyes to Rose, expression hard and guarded again. “I won’t bring a child into this world with _you _and your oh-so-special abnormality around to make him feel inadequate. He’ll be wonderful, and I don’t want you around making him think anything else.”

Rose frowned, offended her sister would think so little of her. “Petunia, you know I’d never make my niece or nephew feel inadequate. I’d do everything in my power to make them feel special. Letting me go to Hogwarts for a few more years wouldn’t change that.”

Petunia scoffed, rolling her eyes. “God, you have no idea, do you? What you do isn’t natural, but I know how people are. You magic some flowers out of nowhere and they’re _so _impressed. How special, how different, how _cool.” _Her sister sneered mockingly as she spoke. “I don’t need any child of mine falling for that act. He’ll never see magic, and if he does, he’ll know exactly how _wrong _it is.”

Looking at the judgment in Petunia’s cold, pale eyes, Rose felt rage well up inside of her, and she welcomed it. Her creature roared in approval, rejoicing at the tide of primal anger she let flow freely through her veins.

_How dare she? _Came the voice again, hissing at her eldest sister’s words. _She wants to take away the one thing you have, the one thing that makes you special. _

It was true.

Granted, Rose had no friends at Hogwarts. She would never call the school her home. She wasn’t even particularly gifted, like Lily. Professor Slughorn had invited her to his Slug Club only once before realizing that Rose possessed none of Lily’s aptitude for warm charm and advanced magical talent.

Still, Hogwarts, and magic, had given her joy that she’d yet to experience anywhere else. There was something immensely satisfying about going from being called a freak to realizing that the power inside of her could do amazing things.

She still remembered her first Transfiguration lesson. She’d been a thin, shaking, terrified little thing, worn down from months of Tuney’s merciless taunts. Hogwarts was large and loud and so strange, entirely different from the familiar normality of her muggle home. Waving her wand as McGonagall had instructed, however, Rose watched in awe as the match in front of her became thinner and metallic, glinting on the desk. No matter what Petunia had said about her before, Rose could turn a match into a needle. Nobody worthless could do that.

Rose glared meanly, curling her lip. “You’re not even pregnant. This is a stupid argument.”

“_Ugh_,” Petunia exclaimed. “It’s _my _house! I’m your guardian and I decide what’s best for you and what I’ve decided is to help you be _normal, _for once.”

“I am normal,” Rose countered in a deadly quiet voice. “Don’t even pretend for a minute that you’re doing this to help me.”

“This isn’t a discussion I’m having anymore.” Petunia walked towards the doorway, but Rose stepped in front of her. They were nose to nose.

“It’s a discussion I’m having. You have no idea what you’re talking about and frankly it makes you look like an idiot.” The words flowed out of Rose uncontrollably, each one fueled by the perverse pleasure uttering the one before it had given.

“How dare you,” Rose continued quietly, finally voicing the sentiment she’d been thinking for weeks. “You have no right to treat me this way. You have no idea what you’re dealing with.” Spying her wand lying on her desk, she snatched it, pointing it towards Petunia threateningly. “If I really wanted to go to Hogwarts, there’s no way you could stop me.”

Petunia flinched at the sight of the wand, but she stood her ground. “You don’t know-“

“Don’t interrupt me!” Rose yelled, and Petunia stepped back, shocked. Rose was shocked, too. When was the last time she’d yelled? It felt good, though, to be the one doing the lecturing. She knew she couldn’t (and wouldn’t) use it, but the wand in her hand made her feel powerful.

“I listen to you all the time and I never say a thing. I just take it. It’s such a burden for you to have taken me in? Well guess what – living with a cruel bully and her walrus of a husband wasn’t exactly in my life plan either.”

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Rose knew that it would be a good idea to shut up. The things she was saying were biting and mean and so unlike her. _It’s true though, _a louder part of her countered.

“I’ll never know why you didn’t just send me to live with Lily when she turned eighteen,” Rose said bitterly, shaking her head. “Lord knows it’s what Mum and Dad would’ve preferred.”

Petunia’s face turned scarlet. “_Don’t_ you dare talk about what they would have wanted! You have no idea what they would have wanted, you ignorant, insolent _brat.”_

“Stop interrupting me –“

“You have no idea because, in case you’ve forgotten, I was the only one who was there.”

“Petunia, stop it-“

“I was the one who had to sit there, alone, to watch them die. Which you missed, by the way, so don’t even-“

“Petunia, _stop!” _

For several long, painful seconds, Petunia did stop. Her mouth hung open, hands suspended in the air, finger frozen mid-point. Only her eyes moved, rolling about wildly in their sockets. Rose blinked, horrified, and Petunia was herself again.

Petunia took a deep, gasping breath. “What did you do?”

Rose shook her head, the shock cutting through the angry haze of the argument. She glanced down at the wand, pointing downwards at her side. She hadn’t even said a spell. “I didn’t – I didn’t do –“

Petunia was looking at her strangely. “Get out,” she whispered.

“Petunia, please. It was an accident – I would never –“ Rose took a step forward, and Petunia shrieked in anger.

“Get _out _of my house, you freak! Get out!”

Stumbling, Rose turned and ran out of the room, down the stairs, and through the front door. The late afternoon sun hit her face, a stark contrast to the atmosphere within the house.

Looking down the road, Rose pushed forward, sparing the house even a glance backwards. She just needed to be away, as soon as possible.

Dazed, Rose walked for what felt like only a few minutes; when she glanced up, however, she found herself surrounded by the small shops and moderate bustle of the nearest town, at least a few miles away from where the Dursleys lived.

Finally feeling the ache of weariness in her legs, Rose found a nearby bench where she could think.

Would she be able to return to Privet Drive that day? Petunia had told her to leave. They’d had squabbles over the years, less and less as Rose had grown and Petunia had begun to ignore her existence rather than actively resent it. This fight was entirely unprecedented.

Recalling those horrible moments of stillness, Rose shuddered. The more she considered the powerful anger coursing through her, how unnaturally frozen Petunia had been, the more the incident seemed to be a magical one.

_I’ll be arrested, _Rose suddenly thought, eyes widening at the realization that what she’d done was technically underage magic. A fresh wave of heady panic rushed through her as she searched desperately for a solution. She was an underage witch with no resources, no home to return to, and only the clothes on her back and the wand still clutched tightly in her left hand.

_Sirius, _Rose suddenly thought. Sirius had invited her to London several times by now. He’d been in trouble loads of times in school, and he was an adult in the magical community – surely he’d know what to do.

Rose found the train station easily enough, its entrance only a few steps away from the bench where she’d been sitting. What was harder, she soon found, was buying a ticket.

“That’ll be seven pounds miss,” said the man at the window. Blanching, Rose realized that she’d completely neglected to consider payment for her journey. Desperately rooting around in her pockets, she pulled out a two-pound coin. Rose swallowed, suddenly feeling like she might cry.

“I don’t-” she croaked out, throat tight. She cleared it and tried again. “I don’t have any more money than that.” Taking in the man’s unsympathetic expression, she offered an excuse. “It’s a last-minute trip, you see. I’m visiting my brother-in-law in London.”

“I can’t give you a ticket unless you’ve paid,” the man said matter-of-factly, almost bored and certainly unaffected by her rather pathetic display.

“Please sir,” she whispered. “Sirius – my brother-in-law can help me pay, once I’m in London. It’s just such an urgent trip. _Please.” _She blinked rapidly, willing away the moisture that had begun to pool stubbornly.

A gentle hand on her arm startled Rose out of crying in earnest.

“Excuse me.” It was a middle-aged woman who’d spoken, her wildly frizzy hair streaked with more grey than brown and stuffed into a hairnet. Oddly enough, she was wearing what appeared to be a dressing gown, a hideously pink one that reached all the way to her ankles. “I’ll be paying for her fare,” she continued to the man at the window, placing a five pound note next to the coin.

Shocked, Rose looked at the woman more closely, trying to place her. “_Thank you. _I can pay you back, once I’m in London, if you just give me your address.” She frowned, peering closer. “Do I know you?”

The woman smiled. “There’s no need for that, really. Just stay out of trouble from now on, and do try to make it to London in one piece.”

She had turned around and disappeared from the station before Rose could question how she’d known about the trouble or why she’d left without buying her own ticket.

Ticket in hand, Rose was once again left to her thoughts as she boarded the train and sank gratefully into a cushy, comfortable seat.

Would Sirius even want to see her, when she arrived in London? Or would he look at her in disgust for attacking her own sister? _Petunia deserved it, _a snide voice inside her head murmured, which scared Rose even more.

She turned to the window. The cheerful morning sun had been engulfed by a dark, threatening blanket of clouds, and as Rose watched, they began to release fat drops of rain.

She watched the rain for the rest of the trip, distracting herself by tracing the patterns each drop left as it took its journey down the windowpane. She must have dozed off, because after closing her eyes for what seemed like a few minutes, she opened them to hear the conductor announcing that they’d reached Waterloo Station, the train easing to a halt.

Clutching her wand tightly, Rose stepped off the train and tried to get her bearings. The cold, grey streets of the city were slick with rain, and she watched as people walked briskly, all hurrying to their destinations. With a sinking feeling, she realized she had no idea where her own destination was. Sirius had given her his address, once, in one of his letters. _One of the letters that’s currently sitting in Surrey with Petunia, _a snide voice griped, and she fought the urge to scream.

Sirius surely didn’t have a telephone, and she wouldn’t have known the number anyway.

Rose cursed herself for not paying attention as Lily had offered up her own apartment. _Had she even mentioned an address?_

She also couldn’t send a message with magic – she was probably already in enough trouble as it was. This line of thought suddenly sparked an idea. Maybe she couldn’t send a message, but there were adult wizards who could. _I could go to Diagon Alley, _Rose thought. It was a risk, to go somewhere she could be spotted. The ministry was most likely looking for her, had perhaps even put up posters. As the rain flattened her hair against her head, though, she quickly made up her mind that with wizards out of the rain was better than without and getting soaked to the bone.

After two hours of pacing the streets of London, Rose decided that, _I’ll go to Diagon Alley, _was perhaps not the life-saving solution that she’d thought it was. She knew where it was by sight, but she didn’t know the city well enough to have remembered the exact street. Lily had always been the one to direct them, and it was becoming painfully obvious that Rose was lost.

She shivered, regretting not having brought at least a cardigan, her pretty thin sundress now completely saturated with rain.

As she walked, she looked out desperately, searching for a hint or sign of magical activity through the thick rain. There seemed to be only muggles in umbrellas, not a set of wizarding robes in sight.

As she continued to walk, now, Rose noticed that the streets had become a lot dirtier, supermarkets, book shops, and clothing boutiques giving way to dirtied neon signs advertising _Strip Tease _and _Peep Show._

Rose shivered again, this time from unease. She looked down, no longer comfortable with making eye contact with the people who passed by, most of them older men who leered at her bedraggled figure. It was almost night, she realized, and she’d managed to find the red-light district.

Ducking under a nearby awning, Rose huffed shakily and tried not to cry. At this rate, the ministry would find her first, and she’d honestly welcome them at this point. She peered out at the people lumbering past, avoiding their eyes but looking for a sign that one of them was a ministry official come to arrest her.

A hand on her shoulder made her shriek, whirling around to fend off her attacker.

“Rose?”

Rose peered up at Remus Lupin, sandy brown hair plastered against his face and darkened by the rain. His weary-looking face seemed even more tired, brow furrowed and deep circles etched underneath his eyes.

“Remus,” she breathed softly, forgetting her usual shyness around the man. Remus regarded her closely, carefully, eyes roving over her face, goose-pimply arms, and ruined sundress.

“What are you doing out here? Are you alright?” Remus’ voice wasn’t harsh, but it was very serious, and Rose wondered if the ministry had already set off the alert to arrest her.

She looked at him, trying to find the words to describe all that had happened that day, but they got stuck in her throat.

“Rose,” Remus said gently, putting his other hand on her shoulder and looking straight into her eyes. “It’s alright. Just tell me what happened.”

Perhaps it was something about his eyes, so gentle and calm, a shade darker than Petunia’s that allowed for infinitely more warmth.

Or perhaps it was his hands, large and hot and strong, on her shoulders, anchoring her and bringing feeling back to her ice-cold skin.

Perhaps still it was hearing his words, _it’s alright_, so straightforward and certain that she really did believe him.

Whatever it was, as Rose looked into Remus Lupin’s eyes, she opened her mouth and, for the first time that day, began to cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who left kudos!


	4. The Potter Flat

If someone had said to Rose Evans yesterday that she’d be sitting in her sister Lily’s London flat, she would have laughed in their face.

Here she was, though, perched atop a modest twin bed, fingers absentmindedly stroking a soft blue comforter.

Remus had taken her here not long after she’d started crying. He’d seemed alarmed, at first, hovering close and looking at her desperately. She’d realized later that he’d probably been searching for signs of any physical harm. Finding none, he’d just patted her shoulder soothingly, taking off his long overcoat and draping it around her shoulders. It had been warm, Rose remembered, and had smelled faintly of cigarettes and Earl Grey tea. “Hold tight to me now, Rose,” he’d said firmly, and in a nauseatingly quick blink, they were standing in front of a pretty, grey brick building.

Rose shook herself out of the memory, grimacing as she recalled how she’d kept crying all the way up two flights of stairs and through the front door.

She hadn’t even given a proper thank you to Remus, instead sniffling pathetically in the doorway until Lily had showed her to the guest bedroom. Her sister hadn’t bothered trying to ask her what had happened, which Rose was grateful for. She’d just dropped her off in the small and cozy room, returning a few moments later with a mug of tea and some clothes.

“They might be a bit short on you,” Lily had said with a grimace, “but at least they’re warm and dry. You go ahead and get changed and relax a bit. Give us a shout if you need anything.”

And so here she’d sat for the last twenty minutes, tears tapering off into hiccoughs and then drying up all together. Now that she was no longer crying, she began to peer about at her surroundings. It was a small space, with barely enough room for a bed, wardrobe, dresser, and bookshelf, but it was clearly well-loved. All along the bookshelf was a mix of muggle and magical literature, so different from the Dursleys’ selection. Atop the dresser sat several photographs, their inhabitants jumping about in their frames. Rose was surprised to see that she was in one, looking uncomfortable and pale at Lily’s wedding.

Wedding-Rose smiled wanly, twisting her hands about her skirt. Next to Lily, she looked embarrassingly lackluster. Lily’s red hair gleamed, brilliant and rich in contrast to Rose’s own stick straight, mousy beige locks. Rose pursed her lips as she studied her hunched posture, shoulders rounded as though hoping to hide her figure from view. All-in-all, not at all the type of girl who might stun the type of man that was Remus Lupin.

Moving on, she looked at the other photos. A couple of them were from school – later years, clearly, where Lily and the Marauders were all together, laughing and affectionate. Rose couldn’t help but smile at a picture of Lily and Remus, grinning madly and waggling their fingers from their seats in the Hogwarts library. Remus looked almost boyish, his hair shorter and face less lined, less tired. Next to that frame, another, its inhabitants still as statues - A muggle photograph.

Sitting all in a row were Lily, Petunia, and Rose. The girls were young – Rose couldn’t have been more than four. She remembered that day though. A trip to the seashore that she’d looked forward to for months, counting down the days together with Lily and Tuney on a shared calendar in the family kitchen.

She and her sisters had explored the boardwalk and then the beach, picking up shells and piling together mounds of sand that were castles, gardens, fantastic villages. In a rare twist, no one had fought that day, Lily’s magic unseen and Petunia somewhat gentler than usual. They’d ended the day with ice cream cones on a bench, sun just barely dipping below the horizon. Rose traced the image, drinking in the arm Petunia had thrown around her and Lily, pulling them close. Rose was beaming, the carefree abandon of youth lending her a brightness that certainly hadn’t been there at the wedding.

How different that girl was from the one who’d just exploded at her sister. _And who had committed underage magic, _Rose thought, that pang of concern resurfacing. She didn’t know where Sirius was, but she had to let someone know what she’d done. They had to be warned, to expect the knock at the door that was surely imminent.

She was halfway down the hall to the sitting room when the sound of her own name stopped her in her tracks.

“-get Rose away from that house?”

“I can’t really do anything until she’s of age. Petunia’s her legal guardian, and no muggle authority is going to give custody to two no-good kids who laze about London all day without a job.”

“If the Ministry weren’t such a mess right now this wouldn’t be a problem.” This was a new voice. It sounded like James, the frustration in his tone evident. “We’d have them come up with the documents to prove whatever we needed to prove, and we’d have her living here.”

“If she wanted,” the second voice replied quietly.

“If she wanted,” the first voice repeated, and it was Lupin’s gentle lilting accent that she was hearing, Rose realized.

“This is ridiculous,” a sharper, richly cultured voice cut in. _Sirius Black_. “Someone has to put their foot down and say enough is enough,” Sirius continued. “She’s living with those muggles and ends up soaked to the bone in the middle of London, nothing on her but a wand? Thank Merlin Arabella sent out the alert on where she’d be headed. Who knows what would’ve happened if she’d been wandering out there without us on the lookout?”

“Yes, well, I have actually tried to get her out of that house, Sirius,” the second voice, clearly Lily, countered hotly. “I haven’t just been sitting around twiddling my thumbs. She doesn’t want to stay with me.”

A long pause. Rose held her breath, not daring to make a sound.

“I think,” James broke the silence cautiously, “that we should just figure out that Rose is okay for now.”

“Fine,” Sirius grumbled.

“You’re the one who found her Moony,” James began. “Could you tell what was going on?”

“She didn’t seem physically hurt, but she was shocked, I think. She was mumbling about the Ministry, but it didn’t really make sense.”

Rose blinked, surprised. She hadn’t remembered speaking, every moment after bursting into tears a blur of warm coat and steady hands and that particular scent that was Remus. 

“Arabella said that she wasn’t sure what had happened, just that she saw Rose run out the house,” Lily added quietly. “She followed her all the way to the next town over, but it wasn’t clear what had gone down. Just that Rose was quite upset and that we should look out for her in London.”

“Do you think those muggles did something to her? Petunia’s husband is a brute – Rose writes me about him,” Sirius said darkly.

“I don’t know what to think,” Remus sighed, for once sounding unsure. “The poor thing looked so scared when I found her – how could Petunia’s husband hurt a vulnerable child?”

Rose swallowed around the suddenly large lump in her throat. _A vulnerable child. _Was that how Remus saw her? That pale, somber-looking girl in a bridesmaid’s dress flashed in her mind, and Rose berated herself for thinking of herself any differently.

She hadn’t thought, to be fair, that Remus was writing to her out of any kind of romantic inclination. Still, she’d hoped desperately, as his letters had become longer and filled with more intimate details and humourous asides, that he’d begun to think of her as more than just a friend’s kid-sister. As a friend in her own right, perhaps. An equal. _Stupid_, she thought, and ghostly tendrils of her earlier anger began to creep back into her chest. _So stupid to think Remus Lupin would want to be friends with someone like you. _

“From what Rose tells me, he’s a bigot and a bully. It’s not hard to imagine that-”

Before Sirius could finish his sentence, Rose stepped into the room. The talking abruptly ceased, all four pairs of eyes fixed on her figure in the doorway. Rose tugged self-consciously on the too-short trousers Lily had given her, wishing desperately that she wasn’t wearing something quite so ill-fitting.

“Rose,” Lily murmured gently. “We were just-”

Something in her placating tone, the warm green sympathy in her eyes, made those remnants of that earlier anger come alive. Rose’s face set, eyes flinty.

“I know what you were doing. You don’t have to talk about me like I’m not here, you know.”

Lily nodded, eyes still frustratingly kind. “Of course. We were just trying to-”

“And I’m not a child,” Rose continued hotly, looking at the floor, the wooden coffee table, anywhere but at the lanky, sandy-haired figure curled into an armchair. “If you wanted to know what happened you should’ve just asked me.”

No one seemed quite sure what to say to that, an uncomfortable silence descending over the room like a heavy morning fog. Sirius broke it first.

“Sorry Rosie,” he said with a tired smile. “You’re right as rain as usual.”

Another beat. Then, “I want to talk to Sirius.” Rose was almost surprised at her own boldness. But it was true. He was who’d she’d come here to speak with in the first place.

If any of the other three had a problem with it, they didn’t voice their objections. Sirius just rose gracefully from the couch, a picture of ease and casual elegance, and walked across the room. “I thought you’d never ask. Come on, we can speak in my room.”

Together, the two of them walked down the hall, past Rose’s door to one across the way. For once, Rose filled the silence with chatter, desperate to distract from what she’d have to confess.

“I thought you lived around the corner?”

It came out like a question, although she’d meant for it to be more assertive. Sirius only nodded.

“I do.”

“But you have your own room?”

“Well,” Sirius drawled, “With Remus having his own room as well, I suppose mine is officially the ‘second guest room.’ Or ‘the office.’” His fingers formed sarcastic quotation marks in midair. “But I’ve filled it with enough crap that it’s basically mine now. I’m here most of the time anyway – makes it easier for work.”

“You mean commuting together?” Rose frowned. “You’re all … Aurors?” She couldn’t quite remember, and she realized that Lily had never spoken much about their jobs.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Sirius said quickly, and didn’t speak any more on the subject, instead swinging open the door in front of them.

Sirius’ bedroom made the guest accommodations look unspeakably plain.

Every inch of bare wall was covered in posters, from the Sex Pistols to the Rolling Stones to Iggy Pop. In a corner sat a large phonograph and stack of records piled even higher. Throughout the room, small touches indicated that this place was wholly Sirius, from the pack of cigarettes lying open on the windowsill to the leather jacket draped casually over a chair. Rose bit back a pleased smile when she noticed the neat pile of letters on his desk, all signed, _Rose. _

Sirius sprawled out across the red and gold bedspread and patted the chair across from him. Rose sat, suddenly nervous.

“I’ve done something bad,” she began, unsure of how to continue.

Sirius smiled, eyes crinkling pleasantly. Once again Rose noticed the way it transformed his face, from cool and untouchably beautiful to that warm, mischievous man she’d come to know.

“Come on Rosie,” he wheedled. “It can’t be that bad, no matter what it is. I can almost guarantee that I’ve done worse.” He grinned roguishly at her. “You must know what I was like in school.”

Rose accepted his attempt at distracting her, smiling weakly in return. “Well,” she said softly, and with that she launched into her tale. She told of discovering Petunia in her room, their fight, and Petunia’s vow that her sister would no longer be attending Hogwarts. Sirius’ face darkened at that, but he didn’t interrupt, not once. Not even when Rose described that horrible moment of uncontrollable anger when she’d frozen her own sister. He listened as she recounted her long walk into town, the mysterious woman at the train station, and her arrival in London. If he noticed her getting teary-eyed as she spoke of her fears, he dutifully ignored it.

“I knew the Ministry would be looking for me. Because of the underage magic. And I knew I had to find you, but I didn’t know where to go. And so I tried to find Diagon Alley, except I couldn’t, I was so lost. And then I was on that street, and-” Rose shuddered. “I really didn’t know where to go, and it was dark. But then, well,” she shrugged. “Then Remus found me.” It was a bit of an anticlimactic end to such a fantastic tale, but she had nothing else to say, no embellishments or commentary.

Rose finally dared to look up into Sirius’ eyes from where she’d been studying the red and gold thread of the bedsheet. She’d looked down at the part of her story where she’d frozen Petunia and hadn’t been able to tear her eyes away since.

He was gazing at her intently, earnestly, silver eyes shining with more emotions than she could decipher. The attention made her flush, and she flitted her hands together nervously, picking at the hem of Lily’s sweater. “That’s all,” she added, wishing he would at least say something, anything, to help her feel less terrible about the entire situation.

“Well, that’s quite the story Rosie,” Sirius began. “I have to say, you still haven’t outdone me on troublemaking, not by a long shot.” It was an attempt at humour, but this time Rose couldn’t bring herself to play along. Sirius could tell, she thought, because he turned sincere again.

“First off, I’m flattered that you thought to turn to me. You always can, you know. James, Lily, Remus-” Rose tried hard not to blush “-all of us would drop everything to help you. You’re part of the family now,” he said with a smile.

“And,” he continued more seriously, “on the subject of the Ministry. You don’t have to worry about that. The Ministry is,” Sirius paused, as though searching for the right words. “A bit of a mess right now, to be honest. If it’d been any other time, they’d probably have found you and let you off with a warning. They’ve got bigger fish to fry at the moment, though.”

Rose let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, so relieved that she almost laughed aloud. Sirius’ words held the promise of some deeper context, some more important information about the Ministry that she was missing. Something to do with the rising tensions in the magical world, the whispered warnings of war, perhaps? At the moment, she couldn’t quite bring herself to care. At the back of her mind, a small yet persistent voice nagged at her to address something much more pressing.

“Still… You don’t think …” Rose stopped, grasping for a way to share aloud those dark thoughts that had been plaguing her. “I was so angry. I wanted horrible things to happen to Petunia, and they did. And it’s like I couldn’t even control it.” She shuddered. “It’s like I was there in my body, but I wasn’t there.” It was the best way she could think to describe the out of body feeling that had accompanied that all-consuming rage. She wasn’t sure if it even made sense, but Sirius was nodding at her solemnly.

Reaching out, he took her hand in both of his. “You listen to me, Rose. I know a thing or two about shitty relatives and bad tempers. I don’t know exactly what you’ve been going through, but I’ve gathered it’s certainly no walk in the park.”

Rose clung to his hands, savouring the warmth and security they provided as they anchored her here in this room. Sirius, too, clasped her fingers tightly. “You’re not wrong, or bad, for lashing out. It wasn’t your fault. It was an accident,” he said firmly. “The fact that you feel so terrible says enough about your character.”

“But,” Rose croaked out, still searching for an explanation. “I was so angry. I was _so furious-_”

“And that’s _okay_,” Sirius interrupted. “If it’d been me and my brother it probably would’ve come to blows. Merlin Rose, haven’t you ever lost your temper before?”

“Not really, no,” she admitted. Now that she thought about it, she couldn’t remember the last time she and a family member had ever had a fight. The youngest in a family of much larger personalities, Rose had preferred staying hidden, avoiding the confrontation Petunia had always seemed so desperate to instigate.

Sirius huffed an exasperated laugh. “Well, I’d say try it more often. You’d be amazed how much a good row can accomplish.”

“You’re saying having a row is a positive thing?” Rose asked incredulously.

“From time to time, it is. It’s good to get fired up about something every now and again. Shows you’ve still got a pulse. Believe me, I get worried when James and I haven’t had one in a while.”

The disbelief must’ve showed on her face, because Sirius barked out a laugh. “Don’t look at me like that! You can’t knock it until you’ve tried it, trust me.”

Barmy. Sirius Black was absolutely barmy and yet, he’d managed to untangle the knot of dark, cold dread and regret lying in the bottom of her stomach. Rose let herself smile, the first real one in a while. “Alright, I’ll take your word for it I guess.”

Sirius winked. “That’s all I can ask for, Rosie.”

She sighed. “I know you’re probably going to report back to Lily and James that everything is okay. Do you mind waiting until I’m back in my room? I’d like to at least pretend that I’m not being spoken about.”

“Anything for my favourite sister-in-law,” Sirius quipped, and she rolled her eyes, not bothering to correct the technicality as they exited his room. Before they could take a step, Rose was surprised to hear a gentle cough. A few feet away at the front end of the hall, Remus hovered, walking over as soon as he spotted them.

Sirius looked at Remus, quirking a brow. The two seemed to be speaking silently for a second, before Sirius smirked and clapped Remus lightly on the shoulder. “See ya, Moony.” He gave Rose’s shoulder a gentler squeeze and sauntered in the opposite direction towards the sitting room.

Rose was certain that her face was on fire. She thought back to her cold tone earlier and cringed. So she was a child and an ice queen. Perfect.

Remus cleared his throat and she looked up from where she’d been studying the worn wooden floorboards. “I didn’t mean to insult you,” he said quickly. Rose blinked, but he continued. “About calling you a child. I just-” he broke off, and if Rose didn’t know any better, she’d guess he was nervous.

“I meant that – well, you know. I was so worried about you. We all were. And then finding you there on such a seedy street looking like you’d been to hell and back-” Remus cut himself off, looking at her intently. “You are okay, aren’t you Rose? You know you could tell me if you weren’t.”

Rose just nodded, unable to speak with Remus’ attention on her like that. His gentle brown eyes were so sincere, so full of warmth. Remus had been worried about her. He cared about her now. She felt frozen in space, afraid that even a breath could break this moment between them.

Remus’ face broke into a relieved grin. “Good. With you in any trouble – you’re Lily’s sister. It’s like all of us had a little sister missing today.”

And just like that, the moment broke.

Rose’s stomach swooped, and she looked down, trying to push away the hot wave of disappointment that washed over her like a harsh gust of wind. Remus, kind and sweet and wonderful Remus, had only cared about her for her connection to his friend. Any illusion that she was anything more than Lily’s little sister was shattered. Alarmingly, her throat began to tighten, and she knew that she had to get out of here before she did something stupid, like cry again.

Forcing a smile on her face, she looked into Remus’ eyes again. Big mistake. Their whiskey depths were so kind, swimming with tender concern. It made her sick. _Little sister_. The words echoed through her mind, a cruel chorus. “Well, glad it all worked out. Thanks Remus,” she said tightly, turning to enter her room. 

Remus reached out to grasp her elbow, quickly dropping his hand when she pulled back as though burned. “Are you sure you’re okay? Please, if I’ve done something wrong, just tell me-”

“I said it’s fine,” Rose said sharply. She had to get out of here. That shame was hanging over her like a shroud, now, pulling forth traitorous pricks of moisture from her eyes.

“Well alright, if you’re sure, but I still feel-”

“_Please_,” Rose begged hoarsely. “I’m tired. I just-” deep breath. “I just want to sleep.”

Without waiting for an answer from Remus, Rose twirled back around and nearly ran into the guest room, closing the door firmly behind her. She waited several minutes, until the sound of weary footfalls making their way down the hall, before she turned her face into the pillow and let her misery take hold fully.

As hot tears leaked into the bedspread, Rose clenched her fists and made a decision. _No more, _she promised herself. No more would she pine after a man who clearly didn’t, and would never, see her the way that she saw him. _No more stupid hoping and wishing. No more dreaming for nothing. No more._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I'm back! So sorry to everyone who's been waiting on this chapter for such a long time. This autumn was unexpectedly my most busy yet, but I'm so glad to be in a place where I can come back to these characters and keep pushing forward with this story. Thank you so much to everyone who left kudos and comments! It's so lovely to hear your thoughts and support (also happy to hear critiques though, if you have them).


	5. Meals and Revelations

Her first full day in the Potter household Rose spent locked away in her room. Lily had knocked tentatively around midmorning, letting her know that there was coffee and pumpkin juice and fresh pancakes with lemon and sugar if she was hungry. Rose’s mouth had watered at that, lemon sugar pancakes a favorite birthday treat from when they were children. Then she thought about seeing Remus’ face across the breakfast table and pulled the covers over her head.

She was more tired than she’d originally thought, and so the rest of the day Rose occupied that odd place between waking and dozing, occasionally lifting her head to gaze blearily at the steadily decreasing light peeking through her curtains. Finally, at seven o’clock, she dragged herself out of bed, opening her door a crack to peer into the hall.

Right on the floor in front of her, someone had left a large tray laden with a feast to rival even the best Hogwarts had to offer. On one side sat a bowl, filled to the brim with a thick and hearty beef stew. Piled up against it was a gloriously puffed, golden-brown Yorkshire pudding, gleaming with a light sheen of butter.

The rest of the tray was taken up by a lightly dressed side salad and a generous slice of apple pie, doused liberally in a perfectly smooth, thick vanilla custard. As wafts of richly savory scented steam floated up to her face, Rose felt her stomach claw and contract. She was starving.

She marveled at the warm air rising from the tray. It could only have been Lily, Rose thought to herself, who could’ve charmed the food to stay hot like that. Granted, Lily had never made food this nice when she’d lived at home, but maybe learning to cook was part of that mysterious transition to adulthood.

She briefly thought about calling out a thank you, just down the hall to where she could hear her sister’s voice murmuring softly over the clinking of dishware. However, she then heard Remus’ gentle chuckle, and so she snatched up the tray and returned to her room. 

The next day continued much the same, and the day after. The guest room had a small washroom attached, so Rose could shower and go to the loo without having to face the other occupants of the house. She discovered that if she left her bed in time for breakfast and lunch, Lily would leave her food then too, trays piled high with sandwiches or eggs and toast with butter and jam. Sometimes her sister would add a small daisy or lilac in a jar, the flowers’ colourful petals adding a welcome spot of vibrancy to the room.

Rose ate the food, but she still couldn’t bring herself to leave the bedroom. She wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but every time she thought back to the events of her arrival, she flushed with embarrassment. Had she really cried like that in front of Remus Lupin? Had she poured her heart out to Sirius Black in his bedroom? And then, picking a fight with Remus in the hall; He didn’t owe her anything, yet she’d lashed out at him like a child. She’d been _rude_, there was no other word for it, and Remus had no way of knowing why.

And then she’d get overwhelmed with imagining how the house’s residents had surely noticed her absence by now, her strange reclusiveness, and were soundly judging her for it. Any inkling of a desire to venture outside was quickly quashed.

On the fourth day of Rose’s stay, she awoke abruptly to the whoosh of the curtains being drawn. Breathing in deeply and shaking her head of the last vestiges of sleep, she blinked into the bright white light filling the room.

“Alright, that’s enough of that. Rise and shine, sleeping beauty. We let you have your little sulk, but there’s business to be done, mischief to be managed.”

“Sirius?” Rose rubbed her eyes with the heel of her hand, pressing and swiping away as if that could banish the image of Sirius Black standing in her bedroom and scolding her like – well eerily enough like Professor McGonagall. If McGonagall had ever encouraged her to ‘manage mischief,’ that is.

“Well I’m not James or Remus, clearly. I’m a unique specimen.” He sniffed, though Rose was fairly sure he was feigning offense.

Before she could answer, Sirius was striding across the room to her bedside. “We’ve got a big day ahead of us, Miss Rosie, so I need you up and out of bed in five minutes. Breakfast is already on the table, and you wouldn’t want to offend the chef by letting it get cold.”

Rose leaned back, suddenly conscious of her unbrushed teeth and disheveled hair in the face of Sirius’ well-groomed visage. “I’d really quite prefer to take my breakfast in my room again.”

Sirius narrowed his eyes. “I’m sure you would, but there’s no room service today, I’m afraid.” For a moment, his eyes softened. “Come on, Rosie. Breakfast at the table’ll taste much nicer than from a tray.”

Before she could answer, Sirius had turned, sweeping out of the room with a, “See you in five!” Rose sat up in bed, taking in the room as it appeared in natural light. It was a sunny day. At the sight, she realized that she hadn’t pulled open the curtains since she’d arrived, instead relying on a collection of candles placed around the room. Curious, she padded over to the window, looking down at the street below.

The city scene beneath her seemed to glow, awash in that summer sunshine that was somehow brighter than any other. In the daylight, the gray streets she’d traversed at her arrival didn’t seem nearly as dreary, and the earthy toned buildings not nearly as imposing.

Making a decision, Rose strode towards the room’s little wardrobe, opening the door and peering inside for something more presentable than her jimjams. There were limited options: a delicate white blouse, a pair of blue jeans, and a long yellow skirt. 

She emerged from the bedroom five minutes later, having chosen the white blouse and jeans (the yellow of the skirt had seemed almost obnoxiously cheerful) and made her way down the hall, eagerly following the smell of frying sausages. Lily had made sausages once earlier this week, and they’d been brilliant.

On entering the kitchen, she paused as she was faced with a tall, brown haired, decidedly male figure cooking away at the hob. She watched for a few seconds as he bounced about, whistling a melody that he occasionally interspersed with lyrics about not liking Mondays as he flipped a spatula across a couple of pans.

Taking a second to prepare herself, Rose cleared her throat.

Remus whirled around, spatula raised in the air and a surprised look on his face. “Blimey, you’re as stealthy as Filch!” He swallowed and peered at her closely. “How long were you standing there?”

Fighting the urge to blush, Rose shrugged. “Not too long, don’t worry. Pretty sure I only heard the chorus.”

“Lucky you, Rosie. Remus here is pants at singing.” Sirius entered the kitchen, his good-natured smile softening any blow his words might have inflicted.

Remus rolled his eyes. “As if you’re any better, Padfoot. We’ve all heard your shower covers of Gang Of Four. Tell me, is it still considered a cover if you’ve transposed the song to cover three different key signatures in one go?”

“Ah, but at least I know my days of the week. It’s all well and good that you’re wondering about your dislike of Mondays, Moony dear, but you’ll find that today is, in fact, a Wednesday.”

Remus swatted at Sirius with the spatula, and Rose giggled as she watched the shorter man jump back, a wounded expression on his face. She then paused, surprised at herself for wanting to laugh in the first place. Maybe it wouldn’t be so hard being around the others after all.

“That’s it, I’m only serving breakfast to Rose this morning. She knows how to respect the one who’s putting food on the table,” Remus announced with a wink in her direction.

Well. Maybe not.

Rose sputtered out a polite laugh and a “thanks,” sitting down at the breakfast table and unfolding her napkin before anyone noticed her blush. 

A few seconds later, Remus arrived with three plates (he’d forgiven Sirius’ transgression, apparently), and set them on the table.

“James and Lily are sleeping in today. We, er, just sort of leave them to it to wake up on their own,” Remus supplied when he noticed her questioning gaze at the two empty chairs.

Sirius cackled. “He walked in on them shagging once – scarred him for life.”

“Sirius!” Remus, protested, ears growing red. “That’s Rose’s sister and brother-in-law you’re talking about.”

Rose grimaced, words for once coming easily. “Yeah. Gross.”

“Well it’s _true_,” Sirius intoned petulantly, somehow managing to pout at the same time as maintaining his elegant composure.

Rose rolled her eyes and focused on eating the mess of food in front of her before it got cold. Remus had indeed made sausages, as well as eggs and slabs of thick cut toast to go with it. As she sampled the food, Rose nearly moaned in contentment at the taste of the velvety soft scrambled eggs, and then paused in her chewing.

The eggs’ rich flavor and texture were identical to the ones she’d been eating in her room for the past few days. Had it instead been Remus who’d been preparing and delivering her meals?

As often seemed to happen lately, Sirius’ overactive gob answered her question for her. “_Mmm!_” he exclaimed dramatically. “Moony, you’ve outdone yourself with this go around. Sublime, simply superb. What ever would we do without you?”

“Subsist on a diet of takeaways and toast most likely,” Remus answered drily. Rose piped up.

“Oh, do you and James and Lily not cook?” she asked Sirius lightly. The dark-haired wizard barked a laugh.

“’Do we not cook?’ She’s a laugh riot this one. No, James and I can manage some passable toast or the occasional pasta. Lily’s rubbish at cooking though – almost burned down the flat once trying to make clotted cream for tea, bless her.” Sirius paused, frowning. “Still not sure how that happened, actually.”

Remus cleared his throat pointedly, and Sirius turned back to Rose, back to the original line of inquiry. “Anyway, Remus here is our prodigy. Cooks most of the meals except for the few times a week when we can convince him to take off the apron and we all get a pizza or something.”

Rose nodded. No magical adulthood cooking abilities gained by her sister, then. So those trays of food had come from _Remus. _Blimey, that meant that she had flowers from Remus Lupin sitting in her room. As she thought about the carefully prepared trays, the beautifully selected flowers, a warmth began to flutter and grow within her. _Little sister_, a snide voice that sounded peculiarly like Tuney reminded her. _Didn’t you promise yourself you’d stop holding out hope for someone who only saw you as a kid sibling? _

Still. There was a difference between appreciating a kind gesture and carrying a torch. She cleared her throat, breaking the silence. “Well.” She paused, looking down at her plate. “It’s really good. And really nice of you to go to the trouble. Thanks Remus.”

When she looked up a few seconds later, Remus was smiling at her softly, and she had the distinct impression that he perhaps knew she was thanking him for more than that morning’s scrambled eggs.

Surprising herself, Rose met his gaze, and that warmth that had been building flared brighter as she drank in the sight of his chocolate brown orbs. “It’s no trouble,” Remus said, as soft and gentle as the warm brown eyes currently boring into her own.

“Done!” And just like that, the moment was broken as Sirius scraped his chair loudly across the floor, rubbing his stomach appreciatively as he stood up.

“C’mon Rose! I want to be out the door in ten minutes. Lots to do today! Places to go, people to see.”

Remus frowned. “Sirius, we talked about this. I think that you’re perfectly capable of taking care of your _errands _on your own.”

“Nonsense! I pine on my own, you know that, and you’re much too particular to ever come with me, Moony. If you’d like, though, you could check on James and Lily to see if they’d like to tag along.”

“Sirius. Just-” Remus sighed. “Just give it a day, would you? I know you like to jump headfirst into things but that’s not always the best strategy.”

“Remus.” The humor had faded from Sirius’ expression. “I told all of you that this will be good. It’s a bit unorthodox, yes, but no one’s forcing the girl to do anything.”

“You know, it is possible to coerce someone into something without literally forcing them, Sirius. Just, tone it down, would you?”

“Oh, like you have any better ideas? Please, let’s all hear what the almighty swot has to say, I’m all ears!”

“Sirius, just this once, just leave it! You don’t-”

“Um, excuse me,” Rose interjected quietly. Remus and Sirius both deflated from their tense nose to nose posture, swiveling around to look at her in unison.

“What exactly are these errands that Sirius wants me to run?” She swallowed, thinking back to Remus’ raised voice, so rare for the normally mellow wizard.

Sirius recovered first, beaming brightly. “I’m off for a haircut! Thought you could join me.”

Rose blinked. “A… haircut? Like, where you go to have someone trim your hair?”

“Yep!” Sirius nodded brightly. “What other kind of haircut would it be?”

“I mean from the way you were talking about it, it sounded like…” Rose trailed off and then shrugged. “…Not that.”

“Nope, just a quick trim! Maybe some clothes shopping after if anything catches my fancy.”

“Oh.” Glancing at Remus out of the corner of her eye, Rose could see the other man positively scowling at Sirius, eyebrows furrowed low above his eyes. Remus caught her gaze and his expression softened, brow smoothing over with what looked like compassion.

“You can go along or not Rose. Whatever you’d like. There’s lots of books here, too, if you wanted to just stay inside and read.”

“The magnificent swot strikes again,” Sirius muttered. “Reading, I mean _honestly._”

Remus’ mouth tightened, the only part of him that betrayed his annoyance as he peered closely at Rose. “Don’t listen to him. If you’d like to read, I’ve got a whole bunch of books for you. You can pick out whatever you’d like. It’s your decision.”

Rose thought for a moment. Honestly, she’d planned on scampering straight off to bed after breakfast, the nervous energy building up from the morning’s interactions making her want nothing more than the comfort of her quilt.

She remembered, though, the few moments she’d been fighting off laughter at Sirius’ antics this morning. How long had it been since she’d laughed? Months, surely. Studying Sirius’ bright, hopeful face, she felt her resolve begin to weaken as she imagined a day with him.

That he’d need a chaperone for his haircut was strange, but any time spent with Sirius left her feeling lighter, so light that she sometimes forgot that swirling mass of _too much_ that sat heavily upon her chest most days.

Out of the whole house, he was the one she felt most comfortable with. He was perhaps one of the only people in the world that she felt genuinely comfortable with right now. _When had that happened?_

Ignoring Remus (she didn’t think she could go through with it if she had to look into his handsome, honest hopefulness), she pursed her lips at Sirius. “I guess I don’t mind going with you for a haircut. Could use some London sightseeing anyhow.”

“That’s the spirit!” Sirius crowed, clapping her rather heavily on the shoulder. He glanced down at a tarnished silver watch he’d removed from his trouser pocket. “Alright, we wasted five minutes with that back and forth, but I’ll give you a bit of time back. Go on, eat up!”

With that, Sirius was darting down the hall, one last “Ten minutes, look sharp!” thrown over his shoulder.

Rose turned back to her eggs, determined to finish the mouthwatering breakfast before Sirius could drag her from her chair. Just as she’d taken a heaping bite, Remus cleared his throat.

“I’m, ahem. I’m sorry about that.” When she looked up, for once Remus wasn’t making earnest eye contact and was instead studying his breakfast dishware intently.

“That’s alright,” she replied quietly.

Remus laughed. It was a short, huffing sound, just an exhalation of air really. “I suppose it didn’t make much sense to you.”

It wasn’t a question, but Rose shrugged helplessly, furiously studying the lines of her palm. “You don’t have to explain.” Really, what else was she supposed to say? It did seem a bit mad that Remus was so brassed off about a haircut, but she wasn’t about to tell him that.

“Rose.”

Rose flitted her eyes upwards, gazing at Remus straight on.

“I know it won’t seem like it makes sense. Just-” He cut himself off, mussing up his hair a bit as he ran his fingers through it.

“I know it may seem like I don’t really know what I’m on about, or like I don’t know what you’re going through. I don’t mean to lecture you like you’re a child; I _am _sorry about that.” He said the last bit almost to himself, frowning down at the tabletop.

“I also know that Sirius is a good friend to you.” And now he smiled wistfully. “He’s one of the best out there: I’d know.”

“Still. I don’t want you to feel like you’re ever pressured to do anything. That’s all. Just – just remember that Sirius will be your friend no matter what. And so will I. Whether you decide to read all the books here in the flat or go off every morning for a fresh trim with our resident Narcissus.”

He seemed to know that the last bit would get her to smile, and he returned the expression with one of his own. “As long as it’s your choice, Rose. We’ll all be here regardless.”

The moment was so soft, so golden bright and warm, like basking in the glow of a summer sunrise. It was almost like that other night, except better, because nothing could burst this. Remus was her friend. _Are we really friends? _Rose wondered for a moment, but just as quickly as the thought emerged, she let it dissipate.

He’d said they were friends. She could live with that. It was better than the caring of the chance birth of a sibling. A friend was the caring of a carefully considered choice. And speaking of choice:

How long had it been since anyone had asked her what she wanted? She thought back: to childhood, wearing her sisters’ old hand-me-downs in colours and styles that mostly Petunia and less so Lily had first desired and then lovingly worn. At Hogwarts, so quiet that no one noticed or thought to ask her which bed she might like, or which part of a project she might like to complete. Later, weeks of bitter arguments between Lily and Petunia, until it was finally decided where Rose would call home for the rest of her teenage years.

Remus was staring at her as though he had an idea of what she was remembering, and Rose flushed at the thought that he could see her so well. “Thanks,” she managed. No, that wasn’t nearly enough. How could you express gratitude to someone for seeing you so clearly? “I’ll remember that if I ever do feel like I might not want to do something. And just … thanks for being so kind, I suppose. It really means a lot.”

“Of course,” Remus replied, and it looked as though he was about to say something else, some other bit of wisdom that she’d have to string together a coherent response to, when –

“Time’s up! Get a move on, Rosie, only so many hours in the day!”

Like a cool gust of wind, Sirius blew into the room, yanking out Rose’s chair and grabbing her by the hand. She could only call out a brief “See you later!” before Sirius had dragged her down the hall and out the front door, off to meet what London had in store.

Well. At least it wasn’t raining this time around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally back with another chapter! After adjusting to the new routine of the past several months, I think I'm finally getting back to a place where I can focus properly on this story. Hope all of you reading this are doing as well as you can be and are staying safe!


	6. The Haircut

Rose was beginning to wish she’d brought sunglasses. 

Sirius was sporting a pair: square-lensed, sharp-framed things that, along with his faded t-shirt and shaggy black mane, lent him a kind of rock star quality. 

Cupping her hands over her eyes for what felt like the tenth time that day, she peered ahead of them into the yellow-white glare of a city drenched in sun. 

“Where exactly are we headed?”

Sirius tsked. “Now that would spoil the surprise. Only a few minutes more – I know where I’m going, don’t worry.” 

He really did seem to. For the past ten minutes since they’d left, Sirius had been leading the way as though giving an intimate tour of his own flat. He practically skipped across the pavement, yanking excitedly on Rose’s arm whenever they encountered one of his favourite haunts (‘Ooh, that’s the best corner shop in London, Rosie! The hula hoops just aren’t as crunchy anywhere else’). 

It was good, too, that Sirius knew his way around, because London was proving to be no less of a maze than it had been during her initial arrival. Together, they traversed short, stout streets, long, skinny streets arranged at odd angles, and some that seemed to follow no rhyme or reason at all. 

Finally, after yet another surprising right turn, Rose blinked through the sunlight at a familiar red and white circle.

“We’re not apparating?” she asked, surprised. Sirius shook his head, pulling her downstairs into the cool shadows of the station. 

“Nope! Tube’s more fun; you really feel it properly, that you’re traveling. It’s got that fantastic underground energy, you know?”

She didn’t, really. Petunia and Vernon just about broke out into hives at the mention of public transit in London (even then, they’d only taken Rose there about twice in two years), and Cokeworth hadn’t had an underground. She didn’t think an aboveground behemoth like the Hogwarts Express counted – it might as well have been gliding through oil, so smooth was its movement. 

“I’ve never been on the tube,” she said mildly, deciding against sharing the particular pitiful details of her lack of travel experience. 

“You’re in for a treat then! There’s nothing like it!” Sirius paused, frowning. “Well, except maybe the subway in New York. Oh, or the Paris metro. Ah, or also the U-Bahn, forgot about that one. And I gue-”

“You’ve travelled a lot then?” Rose cut him off. 

Sirius nodded. “A bit, yeah.”

“With James and Peter and Remus?”

Sirius paused, fiddling with the hemline of his t-shirt. “With James and his parents a couple of times, yeah, after I moved in.” He picked at a loose thread. “Mostly with my family though.”

“Oh,” Rose said awkwardly, and wished she hadn’t bothered asking in the first place. She thought briefly about touching on that, asking about his family or something, but Sirius shifted the mood before she could try. 

“Still, first time on the tube was with James! We got completely lost and ended up back where we started three hours later, but don’t worry, I know it like the back of my hand now.”

Rose marveled at Sirius’ ability to move along like that, dodging and slipping past heavy emotions with the same grace he’d displayed waltzing down the pavement. 

He was still talking now, as they stood by the platform and waited for the train to arrive, and continued as they boarded and took their seats. 

“We’re lucky it’s an off time. At the end of the day or early morning we’d be packed in here like sardines. You’d be lucky to find a place to stand that didn’t leave you intimately acquainted with your neighbour.”

And then, as the train car rattled and rocked and clacked: “This is it, this is the best part! Feel that motion? It’s like an underground boat!” Sirius was beaming, and Rose smiled as she indulged his descriptions of what she probably could’ve discerned on her own. 

Rose was struck, not for the first time, of just how easy it was to interact with Sirius Black. He was capable of taking his half of the conversation and running with it, buoying up the atmosphere with droll anecdotes and seemingly endless witty observations. Even when the conversation lulled, he remained so electrically lively, so expressive, that the silence felt filled with as much meaning as their dialogue. 

His carefree expression was also proving to be contagious. As they eventually made their way off the train and out of the station, Rose noticed smiles coming more quickly, words rattling off her tongue without dedicating agonized seconds to their construction. 

“I think I’ve been here before.”

They’d been walking for several minutes now, and Rose had begun to notice the loud, brightly coloured billboards of the junction where they’d exited had given way to shops for provocative clothing, videotapes, and uncensored screenings, loudly advertising their wares in bold, capital letters.

In fact, Rose was fairly positive that she’d been here before. The last time had been dark, her vision obscured by raindrops, but the streets around them held the same gritty feel as the area where Remus had found her. 

Sirius, meanwhile, was smirking. 

“Really, Rosie? Come here often, do you?” He waggled his brows and looked pointedly at the ‘HARD CORE PORNO’ shop to their right. 

“No,” Rose hissed, colour blooming in her cheeks. “Not like that. Just. Well I’m pretty that Remus found me somewhere nearby.”

“Oh, he definitely did. Gave poor Remus an extra bit of fright running into him in Soho at nighttime. Dare I even ask what brought you here?”

Exasperation won out over embarrassment, and Rose rolled her eyes. “I was lost, you git. Had been walking around London for hours, which you already know.” Sirius just smiled serenely, the picture of innocence. 

“Why are we here then?” She asked after giving her face a moment to cool. 

“I told you, I’m getting a haircut.”

“Here?” Rose looked around incredulously. “I don’t think I see a single salon.”

“Not going to a salon,” Sirius replied cheerfully. 

“Oh alright, I don’t see a single barbershop either.”

“Not going to a barbershop.”

“…Spa?”

“Nope.”

Rose peered at him intently. “Are you sure haircut isn’t code for some other type of business?”

Sirius peered right back, for one, two, three seconds before barking out a laugh. 

“Yes, I’m sure. The woman who cuts my hair – she’s great, the absolute best, and she only does it from her flat. She lives just around the corner – won’t be much longer now.”

Rose looked around incredulously. “She lives here? But…”

“But what?” Sirius raised a brow expectantly.

“This place, it’s …” She almost said vulgar and then stiffened at the similarity to what Petunia Dursley might have expressed. Sirius chimed in, as if he’d read her thoughts.

“It’s a little rough around the edges, maybe, but her flat’s nice enough.” He peered at her closely, though his slate grey eyes were soft. “It’s mostly just people getting by, living here. Rent’s good. Bit of a shock, I’m sure, but doesn’t make it bad.” 

As though sensing her embarrassment over her earlier judgment, Sirius nudged her gently. “Don’t worry about it. It was a bit surprising for me too, the first time I came by here. Just wanted to make sure you got off on the right foot with my friend.”

Embarrassment soothed, Rose blinked. “She’s a friend now? I thought she was your hairdresser.”

“Can’t she be both?” Sirius countered quickly, and before she could reply, he was pulling her onto a narrow side street, stopping in front of a smoky grey building and buzzing them upstairs. 

Four flights of stairs later, Rose was staring at a dimly lit, narrow hallway. 

“It’s just down at the end,” said Sirius, and, squashing down the Tuney-voice inside her worrying about the cleanliness of the carpet, she followed him until they stopped in front of a worn, beige-coloured door. Before either of them could knock, it was flung open, wailing in protest against the swift movement.

“Sirius!” A voice at the door exclaimed, and in seconds the dark-haired wizard was being yanked in for a hug with a head full of black curls. The two embraced for a moment before the head looked over Sirius’ shoulder at Rose, and she was able to see that the curls belonged to a striking young woman.

“And you’ve brought a friend!”

In the next second, Rose found herself enveloped in a crushing embrace. A second later and the woman had stepped back, a sheepish twist to her lips. 

“Sorry about that. I’m a hugger, but I’ve kinda gathered that’s not how you all start off right away here.” 

“You’re American,” Rose replied, for the first time noticing the distinctly accented cadence of the woman’s smooth, low voice. It wasn’t a question, but the woman grinned and answered anyway. 

“Guilty! What gave me away?” 

Then Sirius was stepping towards them, ruffling his hair in a very James Potter like fashion and – was he blushing?

“Rose. I’d like you to meet my friend, the marvelous Margherita. Hair stylist extraordinaire and number one source of all my across the pond know-how.”

Margherita rolled her eyes. “I’m his only source of ‘across the pond know-how.’ And call me Rita, please” she added. They all smiled for a few moments, Rose at the wallpaper (also in need of a clean), Sirius at Rita, and Rita at everyone, before the curly-haired woman gave a start and a slight laugh.

“Well, come on in! No reason to stand around in this dark old hallway. Didn’t know I’d be having more than just Sirius, so excuse the mess.”

“Oi! Why am I not worth a good cleaning?”

“Because you’d have my apartment a mess again by the time you left, and you know it,” Rita called over her shoulder as she led them through the foyer into the main room. 

It was spacious enough, and, despite Rita’s warning, reasonably tidy. In one corner stood a long tall screen, to which someone had pinned dozens of small polaroid photographs. Placed adjacent was a tall wardrobe and also a set of drawers, atop which sat a mirror and a multitude of cosmetics in a variety of vibrant colours. 

At the opposite end of the room was a sitting area, with a small sofa, coffee table, television, and bookshelf filled with both books and records. 

As she studied the room, Rose began to realize that this woman wasn’t, couldn’t possibly be, a witch. She stepped closer to the screen, eyes scanning over the different images. Each was stock still. How had Sirius come across a muggle friend?

“The days of my youth.” A voice from directly behind Rose startled her, and she turned to find Rita, the other woman so tall that they faced each other eye to eye. 

“Your youth?” Rose parroted, glancing back at the photos. The Rita in the pictures was as elegant and striking as the one behind her, head full of thick, glossy black curls and a playful sparkle in her eyes. “These can’t be more than a couple of years ago, yeah?”

“No, the last one of those was taken around seven years ago. I’m one of the thirty-somethings now,” Rita said wistfully.

“Oh.” Rose really wasn’t good with this type of interaction. What did one say to a disclosure about age? She went with the truth. “Well, I really couldn’t tell the difference. For what it’s worth.”

“Oh, I like you!” Rita laughed delightedly. She turned to Sirius. “Alright then you, get your behind in my chair and let’s see what I can do with you.”

Rita talked nearly as much as Sirius, and Rose was happy to observe their easy cadence as the other woman snipped away gracefully at Sirius’ shiny, dark locks. Rita gave as good as she got, and Rose was positive she saw Sirius blushing and laughing nervously more than once at the hairdresser’s gentle ribbing. Rita, too, seemed at least charmed by Sirius, smiling wryly at some of his more ridiculous jokes, and other times looking down at him with a small, tender smile.

“Are you here for a haircut too Rose?” Rita asked a bit breathlessly in the aftermath of particularly flirtatious remark from Sirius.

“I’m not sure. Would that be okay?” 

“Whatever you want, hun – my day’s clear.”

Rose thought back. Her last trim had been ages ago. Personal appearance for the sake of the neighbours was always the top of Petunia’s list of priorities, but she tended to wait until Rose was looking completely bedraggled before driving her for a cheap and simple trim at the most convenient option. 

“A haircut would be nice,” she decided. 

“Got any idea of the style?” Rita asked as she began layering the strands around Sirius’ face. 

Rose scrunched up her face in thought, but Sirius beat her to it. “Oh Rosie, something short like Blondie would be wicked, and if you –”

“Sirius,” Rita cleared her throat. 

He looked confused for a moment before colouring and muttering something under his breath. “Sorry Rosie. I just get excited. You should pick what you like of course.” 

“You don’t have to decide right away,” Rita added. “Just let me know by the time I’m done with this one here.”

When the wizard in question finally rose from his chair a short while later, Rita winked at Rose and turned to him. “Sirius, would you be a dear and run over to M&S? I’ve all of sudden realized what I absolutely need is a pecan pie.”

“Why do you need it now? You won’t have time to eat for the next hour anyway.”

Rita raised an eyebrow. “After I kindly cut your hair and left you looking presentable to boot? Come on, I’m starving.” 

Sirius rolled his eyes. “I’ve never even heard of a pecan pie.”

“I saw it there the other day. Just go to the bakery section and ask around.”

Sirius frowned. “You really need pud now at –“ he flipped open his pocket watch and looked down, “ – eleven in the morning?”

“Please and thank you!”

Eyes still narrowed, Sirius stared at her for several moments before pocketing the watch and walking towards the hall. “Alright, alright, I’m off. Hope this pie’s worth it.”

Rita waited until they heard the door slam before turning to Rose conspiratorially. “Now that he’s gone, we can have a little consult and figure out exactly what you’d like. Sirius is a sweetheart, but he’s a bit of a strong personality, if you haven’t noticed. Figured it would be good to work this out without his constant stream of commentary.”

Rose frowned. “So you didn’t really want that pie?”

“Between you and me, there’s no way M&S has a pecan pie. I’ve been here five years, and I have yet to see a single one in all of London.”

Rose’s eyes widened. “So he’s going to be looking for ages.”

“Exactly,” Rita replied.

“That’s a bit cruel, don’t you think?” Rose asked, giggling despite herself.

Rita shrugged. “He’ll get over it. Now hop in my chair and tell me what you’re thinking.”

“Well,” she drawled slowly. “I’m not actually sure of anything specific. I just sort of …” she trailed off, staring down in dismay at the bland, beige locks. 

“Sort of hate your hair right now?” Rita supplied. 

“Yes,” Rose responded gratefully. 

Rita nodded knowingly. “I had something like that right after I moved here. Chopped it all off and died it blonde, can you imagine?”

“Did you like that better?”

“Oh, for a little while, but what I really needed was a life change, you know? The hair helped kickstart it, I suppose.” The older woman stared into space for a moment before directing her gaze to Rose. 

“So, what’ll it be? Dramatic cut? Bangs? Maybe a colour?”

“You have hair dye here?” Rose asked incredulously, glancing around the one room flat.

“Absolutely! Got everything I need here in this apartment, and I can assure you, I always offer professional, salon-quality care.”

Rose pursed her lips. She’d thought about dyeing her hair once, just to a darker brown, just for a change. It hadn’t taken Petunia and Vernon very long at all to unequivocally forbid it (if only to be controlling, she’d thought at the time), and now, a year later with an actual choice, the colour no longer held the same appeal. 

“What shade do you think would be best?”

“Oh, whatever you like. With your colouring, red or auburn might look nice.”

“No,” Rose countered quickly. “It’s just – my older sister is a redhead. I kind of want my own thing.”

Rita nodded. “I understand that.” She hummed musingly before her eyes widened. “Oh! Have you ever wanted to be blonde?”

Rose sighed. “My other sister’s blonde, and I really wouldn’t want to look like her either.”

“Well, blonde’s not quite as unique as ginger. Maybe we could take you to a different shade? What’s your sister’s color like?”

“Very pale. And sort of yellow. She keeps it short.”

“Well,” Rita began slowly, “we could leave it long then. And I don’t think yellow would suit you at all. Maybe just take it a couple of shades lighter, and really golden. Nice and warm. With layers!” She paused. “Do you like layers?” 

Rose shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve had it straight on like this for a while now.”

“Well do you like it without the layers?”

She shrugged again. “I don’t really –” Rose broke off. “Sorry. I just – I keep my hair like this because my sister takes me to the hairdresser and tells them how to cut it. She thinks layers look ridiculous.” She looked down, uncomfortable with her own honesty. “I’d just really like a change. Nothing drastic, just different.”

Rita’s large, round eyes took on a look of sympathy, and understanding. She nodded. “Keep it simple, I can definitely do that. Just some subtle pieces in the front, then. Just framing your face. Does that sound nice?” 

“Yeah,” Rose answered, voice slightly tremulous, but Rita just clapped her hands. “All right! Cut first, then colour.”

The two were mostly quiet as Rita began snipping away, the sound of scissors swiping occasionally joined by the odd remark from the darker haired woman. 

“So,” she drawled in those strange vowels of hers, “you here in the city to visit your sister and her family for a while?”

Rose fought the urge to wince as she remembered the circumstances of her arrival. “Um, yes, yeah, I’m staying at their flat for a bit,” she stammered.

“Well I think that’s nice,” Rita said, oblivious. “Sirius talked about you a lot last time he came over.”

Rose waited for Rita to elaborate as to what he might have said, but the other woman stayed silent, and Rose was too shy to bring it up on her own. 

“How long ago was he here? Does he really come in that often for a haircut?” she asked instead, picking a safer topic. 

“He comes by every few weeks. Says it’s for a haircut, but I think he just likes the company. Now, I refuse him service if it’s been less than five weeks. I know he has the money, but if it ain’t broke don’t fix it, that’s my motto.” 

“So are you two…are you, you know, just friends…?” Rose asked tentatively, dying to understand this mysterious other facet of Sirius’ life.

“Oh, definitely just friends.” Rita’s response was quick. “He’s a sweetheart, but much too young for me. And in need of more than I could offer, probably.”

“What do you mean?” Rose asked, finding that it was surprisingly easier to ask questions when she couldn’t see the recipient’s face. 

“He’s lonely, I think,” Rita said simply. “I can’t exactly fault him, but it’s a lot of pressure for anyone who’d want to date the man someday.”

“Lonely?” Rose repeated incredulously. “But he’s Sirius Black. He’s got loads of friends, and you see him, he’s always happy.”

“I guess maybe lonely isn’t the right word. But the yearning. He’s got that look, when he’s with someone he likes, where he’s lapping up the attention and the affection like it means the world to him. Because he’s lived life without it. Someone like that, who’s been without, wants it all the more. Craves it.” She stopped herself. “I could be wrong though! Look at me, barely known the guy two years. Anyway, we have a bit of fun flirting, but that’s all it is, really.”

“Yeah,” Rose said faintly, as she mulled over Rita’s words. Someone like that, who’s been without, wants it all the more. Craves it. She thought about Sirius’ energetic personality, his breathtaking joy and laughter around his friends. Could that be the reason? Was he making up for lost affection? She remembered words he’d written her once, about how his parents would have been content to ignore him, and felt her heart clench at the thought of such an irrepressible person being neglected like an out-of-date broomstick.

“…life?” Rose was so distracted that she only caught the last word of the woman’s question. 

“Sorry, what?”

Petunia would’ve had a fit at ‘what’ over ‘pardon,’ but Rita didn’t seem to mind. “I said, how about you? Have you got a special someone in your life?”

Immediately Rose thought of Remus, his eyes staring intently at hers over breakfast, and blushed. “Ah, no, not for me.” At the moment of silence that followed, she rushed to fill it. “There is a guy, but by ‘there is’ I mean I like him, not that there’s something there.”

Rita stepped around to face her, peering at Rose down her long, straight nose. “Are you sure there’s nothing there? Has he told you how he feels?”

Rose blushed even deeper, regretting the decision to mention him at all. “No, but… he’s a little older. Sirius’ age. And I think he thinks I’m a child. He certainly doesn’t see me as a romantic prospect.”

Rita clucked her tongue. “Well, I still don’t buy it that you know exactly how he feels, but we can shelve that for now.” She paused, fingers stilling. “You’re not changing your hair for him, are you?”

Rose thought about it for a long moment. It was true that she wanted to be the type of girl that Remus Lupin might like. Still though, she’d wanted to change her hair for ages now, frustration building over the years as she’d left it exactly the same at someone else’s whim. If she really thought about it, she wasn’t sure if it was the long beige strands that she hated or the arrested development that they represented. Rose had been growing these past two years but had been shrinking in independence, and it rankled. 

She slowly shook her head. “I think I just want it for myself. Something that I chose.”

Rita nodded appreciatively. “Good. Bowl him over with your charms, not some shiny new hair.”

Rose groaned. “I wouldn’t even know how. I’ve talked to him, and we can talk about books and music in letters, but I get so flustered in person if I have to say more than two words to him.” 

“Look, there’s really no secret to talking to a guy you like. Just speak with him like you would a friend. Try to show him a bit of who you are,” Rita continued as she noticed Rose’s dubious look. “Let that shine through. And don’t overthink it.” 

This advice all sounded a lot easier said than done, but Rita really had been so kind to try to offer it, and she was looking at Rose earnestly, as though she really did think this talk would have an impact on her chances with Remus. 

“That makes sense,” Rose said simply, not having the heart to voice her doubts. “Thanks, Rita.”

Rita nodded, satisfied, and walked around to the back of the chair once again. 

“All right, Rose. Let’s change up this hair.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter in less than a week! No Remus in this one unfortunately, but there will definitely be more of him during the next few chapters. Until next time!


	7. Midnight Tea

“It’s blonde.”

“That it is, James.”

“I mean, it’s really, properly… _blonde_.”

“I changed my hair too, you know. If you’d bother to pay me any notice.”

“Yeah, but you trim your hair practically every day, Pads. This is Rose. And… _blonde.”_

“Yes, Prongs. That is indeed how we refer to that colour in the English language, well done.”

Sirius ducked, smirking, as James made to elbow him in the ribs. The messy-haired wizard leaned forward, peering through his spectacles at the hair he’d been studying for minutes now, and slowly lifted a finger, poised as though to poke at the golden blonde strands.

“Alright, _that’s_ enough of that thank you very much,” Lily interjected, pulling James away with an exasperated huff. “We _both_ think it looks really lovely Rose,” she said with a smile for her sister and a sharp look at her husband.

James was nodding sheepishly. “Oh yeah, of course, it looks great Rose. Meant to say that right away.”

“Don’t mind him,” Sirius chimed in brightly. “His brain has a hard time adapting to changes.”

Rose just quirked her lips, the expression a bit tight on her face. In the days since she’d arrived in London, she’d scarcely had to see her sister; facing her now, under such a spotlight, left her feeling tetchy and nervous.

Still, even tensions between sisters couldn’t fully dampen the fizzy surge of happiness that had swelled during her afternoon with Sirius.

The usually elegant wizard had returned two hours later, flushed and snappish at having only managed to procure a pecan and toffee pudding. He’d brightened, though, at Rose’s hair (“It’s pretty as a picture, Rosie”) and the two had left Rita’s in high spirits.

The rest of the afternoon was spent lazily perusing the shops and streets.

“Pick out whatever you like,” Sirius had told her eagerly and had insisted on stopping into every store she took more than a glance at.

At one in particular, they’d both gotten a bit lost, swimming amongst a sea of records until the owner had sharply informed them that it was closing time, and they really ought to buy something. He’d cheered up considerably when they did indeed make a purchase (ten new records for Sirius and a vibrantly purple album that Rose had picked out on a whim).

It beckoned back memories of earlier, pleasanter days, when a summer afternoon might stretch for hours, unbound by the constraints of time, and yet still somehow end too soon. Although not numerous, Rose’s recollections of these childhood hours gleamed lustrously, and her afternoon had done so as well, each moment of time tinged with bliss.

Perhaps it was because of some leftover giddiness that Rose’s smile even gave way to a quiet “Thank you,” and an agreement to join Lily, James, and Sirius for dinner at the table.

Dinner was a mellow affair, mostly taken up by Sirius and James’ banter (and bickering, but it was hard to tell the difference between the two, at times). Rose sat between Sirius and Lily, and she felt her sister’s eyes on her several times throughout the night, a clear invitation to converse.

Rose, for her part, stared mostly at her plate, refusing to let herself be drawn into Lily’s gentle smile and soft, open face. It would be too easy to smile back, to let herself feel warm and taken care of and to forget that she was staring at the same face that had forgotten about her years earlier in favour of love and belonging elsewhere.

Lily could perhaps sense this, and she didn’t say much more than a few simple queries about their day before retiring to bed with James once they’d finished eating.

Sirius stayed for a while longer, prattling on about some of the records they’d bought earlier, seemingly content to receive only light nods or hums in reply. Finally, he let out a tremendous yawn and announced that it was time for his beauty sleep.

In his absence, Rose drifted to the sitting room, running her hands lightly over the sturdy spines of books, the grainy wood of the coffee table, the faded orange fabric of the sofa. When her fingers touched on the velvety softness of the armchair, she smiled, remembering the image of a lanky, brown-haired figure curled up there.

It was the armchair where she decided to settle herself, after returning to the shelves for a book. She read languidly, savouring every word, pausing occasionally to examine her hair in the light.

It really was properly blonde, although the shock of it all was more than just the colour change.

When Rita had led her over to the mirror, eyes twinkling with pride, Rose had hardly recognized herself. The style wasn’t too different. Long and straight down her back, although shorter pieces around her face did add some variety. The golden colour, too, wasn’t a dramatic change.

Somehow though, this hair, just a few shades lighter than at the start, left her looking brighter, happier. It shone in the sunlight filtering through the window, and for the first time in a long time she was left feeling pleased with her appearance. As she’d peered into the glass, she couldn’t be sure if it was all the hair or if her eyes hadn’t taken on a certain spark of life as well.

Rose was examining the hair now, running her fingers over a silky-smooth section and holding it up to the lantern, watching it catch the light, when she heard the click and groan of the front door opening. She glanced over at the clock on the coffee table, eyes widening when she realized it was past one in the morning.

The steady tread of boots on creaking floorboards grew louder and louder until Remus’ lanky figure appeared in the doorway.

The sandy-haired wizard yawned, body drooping in on itself as he closed his eyes. Rose felt her stomach clench with the nervous anticipation of speaking, perhaps calling out a greeting, before Remus opened his eyes and started, frowning into the dimly lit room.

“Is that you, Rose?”

“Um yeah,” she croaked out softly. “It’s me.”

He squinted, blinking rapidly. “Have you done something to your hair?”

“Oh.” Rose felt her chest grow warm, a sure-fire sign of a creeping blush. “Yeah. I decided to get it done with Sirius.”

“It’s blonde,” she added, when Remus failed to reply immediately. 

Remus chuckled lightly, stepping further into the room. “Yes, it does appear to be.”

Up close, Rose could see the shadows underneath his eyes, face heavy with exhaustion. Her heart clenched in sympathy, and before she could think about what she was doing, she’d risen from the armchair in one quick movement.

“Do you want some tea?” She blurted out, immediately berating herself for asking.

“It’s just that it’s late, and you must be tired, and I’m tired, and I think that tea before bed…” she trailed off, realizing that in her rush to save face, she’d started a sentence with no clear end in mind. “Well, it’s nice,” she finished awkwardly.

Remus just smiled, his whole face crinkling up with it.

“It really is. Tea would be brilliant, thanks.”

“Oh, okay,” she breathed out, smiling in relief, and began padding toward the kitchen, very aware of Remus’ large, warm presence at her back.

“You had a good day then?” Remus asked her as she began to assemble the tea supplies, turning away to fill the kettle with water.

“Oh yeah, it was really lovely,” Rose gushed, not even having to feign excitement. “I’m really glad I went.”

“Good, that’s good,” Remus replied softly, sounding like he might be smiling.

Rose began to putter about with the tea kettle, placing it on the hob and looking around for a match to light the burner.

“Here.”

Rose twitched as a wand emerged on her left, Remus’ arm brushing hers as he zapped the kettle with enough heat to have the spout steaming in seconds.

“Thanks,” she answered breathlessly, and began assembling two cups, placing a bag of camomile in both and carefully measuring out the water.

“Sorry,” she said suddenly as she placed both mugs on the table. “I didn’t think to ask what kind of tea you like.”

“Camomile’s just fine,” Remus replied, lifting open a small dish of sugar. “The only proper bedtime tea, as far as I’m concerned.”

It was quiet for a few seconds save for the clinking of Remus’ spoon as it swirled and dissolved the sugar into the hot fragrant water.

He had lovely hands, Rose thought. Long, narrow fingers, yet strong and steady as they engulfed the mug of tea and brought it to his lips. She looked away, then, thoughts of Remus’ lips prompting thoughts of other things that could only lead to stammering and blushes.

“Have they been giving you a lot of assignments then?” She asked, if only to take her mind off of lips.

Remus frowned. “Assignments?”

“Yeah, sorry, from the Aurors.”

Remus stared at her blankly.

“Why you had to work so late?” Rose supplied. Remus’ confused expression made her skin prickle, and she wished she hadn’t tried for small talk. “Sirius mentioned that you were all working as Aurors … but maybe you’re not?”

Remus’ expression cleared, and his eyes took on a wry, knowing look. “Sirius was just talking about himself and James and Lily, I think. Although, with the amount I help them out these days, I suppose it could count as my second occupation.”

Now it was Rose’s turn to be confused. “They let civilian wizards and witches help out on Auror business? I would’ve thought it’d be secret.”

Remus’ eyes twinkled and he shook his head. “A bad joke, Rose. Ignore me – I’m a bit loopy without sleep.”

Rose took a long swallow of tea, chest still fluttering slightly at the feeling that she was perhaps being laughed at.

“Loopy,” she exclaimed suddenly. “Loony Loopy Lupin. That’s what Peeves used to call you.”

It was one of her earliest memories at school. Hogwarts had been loud, and strange, and as much as she disliked home, she still ached for it somehow. The one bright spot in all of this had been Remus Lupin.

Lily had pointed him out to her on her first night in the castle.

“See those three?” She gestured down the Gryffindor table where three boys (one startlingly attractive, another moderately handsome, and the third… well, he probably had some great internal qualities) were in the midst of uproarious laughter. “Potter, Black, and Pettigrew. Avoid them, Rosie. Pettigrew’s alright when he’s on his own I suppose, but those two –” she shook her head. “Arrogant gits, the pair of them.”

But Rose was hardly looking at the aforementioned pair of gits. “Who’s that next to them?”

“Oh, that’s Remus Lupin. He’s part of their little gang as well, but he’s a good bloke when he’s not letting himself get caught up in Potter’s schemes.” She rolled her eyes.

Remus Lupin. The boy in question was grinning, a satisfied, if a bit surprised sort of expression, as his friends erupted in laughter once more, the boy in glasses ruffling Remus’ soft, sandy brown hair. There was something about him that was even more striking than Black or Potter, Rose decided. He was handsome, yes, but he also had an air of quiet thoughtfulness that called out to something within her. She stared, transfixed, before the spectacled boy glanced over, homing in on the two of them.

“Evans! Is that another Evans you’ve got with you?” He waved them over wildly. “Come on then, introduce us!”

Lily scoffed. “Oh sure, Potter, because I’d just love for my sister to end up in detention during her first week of school.”

She turned back to Rose. “Go on, Rosie, just ignore them. Have a good feast!”

Rose had done just that once she was safely seated with the rest of the Hufflepuffs, stubbornly refusing to turn her head even as Potter hissed, “Little Evans. _Psst. _Little Evans!”

Still, she couldn’t ignore Remus Lupin, especially not the more she saw of him. It was more than his looks, although his warm brown eyes made her heart race whenever she was near enough to see them. He was kind, and funny, his dry wit and commentary a characteristic element of any Marauders (as she’d learned the boys called themselves) demonstration.

In her third week, for the first time, she’d happened upon him alone. She was meant to be on her way to Charms, but she’d taken a wrong turn, finding herself in a dimly lit corridor she’d never seen before. It was on her third round of pacing round the space, nearly in tears, that she spotted him, loping down the corridor in long, easy strides. He’d spotted her too, she was certain, as his eyes had softened and lips had parted as though to call out. Then –

“Loony Loopy Lupin!” Peeves was cackling as he circled overhead. “Loopy Lupin all by his lonesome. Where’s your merry band of ickle fickle friends? Off on an adventure without you?”

Remus, usually so confident when with the rest of the Marauders, faltered, a slight glance downwards the only outward sign that he was affected.

For a second Rose had the mad notion of running forward, confronting Peeves and informing him that no, Remus was one of the smartest boys in his year and very popular to boot, when a tall, graceful figure rounded the corner just behind the sandy haired wizard.

“Oi! Remus, what’re you just standing there for? I don’t mind being late, but you usually seem to care, for whatever reason.” His silvery eyes flicked up at the poltergeist lazily. “Shove off, Peeves.”

Rose hadn’t stuck around to see if Peeves really had shoved off, although she’d caught a glimpse of the expression of something like relief that had crossed Remus’ face, as though before Sirius had arrived, he actually might’ve believed the poltergeist’s words.

“You remember that?”

Remus’ quiet, surprised question broke through her thoughts, and, with a start, she saw that he was staring at her intently.

Rose realized it might seem very strange indeed for a perfect stranger to remember such a distinct detail, and she let out a high, forced little laugh. “Oh, he used to have nicknames for all of you, didn’t he? Barking Black, Potty Wee Potter – that one didn’t really sting after James shot up five inches during your sixth year, though, did it?” She stopped short, realizing she was rambling, and took another swallow of tea.

Remus was nodding though, no longer staring at her quite so hard. “I don’t think he needed them to be accurate so much as to sound good. Peter wasn’t particularly Petty or Petulant either.”

As she realized the implication of her earlier words, Rose began stammering. “I didn’t mean that you were Loony or Loopy! I should’ve said – I mean, none of those nicknames made sense, really, and –”

“Rose,” Remus cut her off gently. “It’s fine. I didn’t think that’s what you meant.”

He was staring at her again, and it took everything inside of Rose not to look away from his whiskey-coloured eyes. He seemed about to say something, before his expression changed from serious to light, and he smiled.

“It really does look quite nice. The hair. I couldn’t remember if I’d said.” He paused, clinking his spoon around his cup absentmindedly. “You’re happy with it?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I really am.” And then, because it was so quiet and peaceful (and perhaps because the camomile had slowed her usually racing thoughts), she added, “I’d wanted to for a while. And so I did.” She smiled then, a bit surprised at her own happiness.

“It feels really great.”

“Doesn’t it?” Remus smiled too, and the two grinned at each other for a couple of golden, blissful moments.

“Remus,” she began slowly. “Those books you talked about earlier – do you think you could show me some? Tomorrow or whenever you have time. It’s so late now.”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Thanks.”

They lapsed into silence.

“If you wanted,” Remus added, “we could start up again. Like in our letters. You know, talk a bit about what you thought, debrief. It could be nice.”

Rose was struck, then, by the thought that Remus was treating her a bit like a frightened, fragile thing.

It had occurred to her earlier as well, as she and Sirius had strolled around London with heaping ice cream cones, newly purchased records in hand. There was something about his smile as he’d talked to her, something in his grey eyes that shone a little too brightly, too eagerly, as though she needed the extra encouragement.

Remus’ eyes now held that same note, although flavoured with his own particular earnest kindness, and Rose fought to ignore the angry creature stirring within her. She thought briefly about giving in, snapping at Remus for even thinking to condescend to her, but then paused.

If she stormed off again, she realized, he’d probably think her all the more in need of delicate treatment. She’d been doing that since she’d arrived, and a fat lot of good it had done for her so far.

_Show him a bit of who you are. _Rita’s words echoed through her mind. She still wasn’t entirely sure who she was, but she was fairly sure that it wasn’t someone who stomped away in the face of well-intentioned kindness.

Instead, she forced up a smile that was mostly free of bitterness and nodded.

“Yeah, sure thing.”

With a final gulp, she drained the rest of her cup and stood, the exertion of conversing with Remus leaving her sleepy at last.

“Well. Goodnight then.”

Remus’ eyes gleamed in the dim lantern light, and she turned away quickly.

“Goodnight, Rose. Thanks for the tea.”

And for the first time at her sister’s flat, Rose fell asleep smiling.

* * *

The next couple of weeks were some of the happiest Rose had spent in years.

Remus had indeed shown her the books (all arranged neatly on a bookcase in his room), and he’d told her she could pop in any time she liked for a new one. It was Remus, so she knew the suggestion was in earnest, but she resolved only to stop by when he was around. There was something uncomfortably intimate about being in his bedroom on her own.

Joey the badass owl had evidently made a safe return from Privet Drive, and Rose gladly accepted his stoic company as she read, slipping him leftovers of whatever Remus had prepared for breakfast to keep him from pecking at her fingers.

She saw less of the human inhabitants of the house. Sirius, Lily, and James were often busy with what she assumed was Auror business, as they always returned looking shabby and exhausted.

Still, all three took time to spend with her. Sirius took great pleasure in introducing her to the rest of his records, and Lily and James each took turns teaching her wizard chess (She still felt uncomfortable around her sister, unable to fully quash an undercurrent of resentment that strengthened during their interactions, but James’ charm and humour, so like Sirius’, served to soothe it some).

Remus, she saw least of all. Rose still wasn’t sure what he did for work, but he’d often leave early in the morning and get in past midnight, dead on his feet. Still, he’d faithfully shed his cloak, climb into his armchair (as Rose had begun calling it), and discuss their book of the moment with that quiet dedication of his until they both began nodding off.

Rose should have realized that this state of equilibrium could only last so long. 

“Camping? You’re really going camping?”

“Yep!” James announced brightly from where he stood in the doorway, small pack on his back, Remus and Sirius at his sides.

Rose frowned, glancing outside at the stormy grey clouds that had begun to cluster. “I thought only muggles went camping.”

“Nonsense!” This was Sirius now. “Why put such divisive labels on such a universally enjoyable activity? Camping’s a time-honoured tradition amongst us Marauders.”

“Funny, you never mentioned it before,” Rose said mildly.

“Must’ve done.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Well,” Remus chimed in weakly, “that’s probably because it’s so near and dear to our hearts. Wouldn’t want to shout about it to just anyone.”

James was nodding furiously. “Quite right, Moony, quite right.”

“Absolutely.” Sirius was nodding an awful lot as well.

Rose stared at the three of them for a long moment. “So. You’re going camping with one single knapsack. In the rain. As part of a tradition?”

“Yep,” all three answered in unison.

She spared a glance at Remus and winced.

“Um. Should you really be going tonight though? Remus, you seem a bit…” Rose paused, looking for an inoffensive descriptor. “Under the weather.”

Which was like calling Vernon Dursley _a little bit prickly. _Remus had been looking a bit peaky for the past few days, but today he looked positively awful, as though he might collapse at any moment.

Remus just smiled feebly at her. “Thanks, Rose, but I’ll be fine.”

“A bit of the fresh air of nature is all that he needs!” James clapped Remus on the back, promptly grimacing when the other man nearly fell over.

“_Right_,” Rose said slowly. She frowned again, something about this entire situation striking her as _off_, yet not really knowing how to address it.

“Take care, you three.” Well, if Lily was in on it, it wasn’t likely to be some elaborate prank, at least. Rose’s sister strode into the foyer, offering up hugs for Sirius and Remus and a quick kiss for her husband.

Then Rose registered her words. “You’re not going with them?”

“Oh no,” Lily said breezily. “Wouldn’t want to intrude on a Marauders tradition. And I’m not particularly fond of sleeping outside,” she admitted, wrinkling her nose. “It’ll just be the two of us for the next day or so. If that’s alright,” she added when Rose had been silent for a few seconds.

Forcing her face into the mask she often employed at the Dursleys, Rose smiled blandly. “Of course. Not a problem.”

She turned back to the Marauders. “You’re off then?”

“Any second now,” Sirius said, nodding. “We’re just waiting on –”

The end of his sentence was drowned out by three frantic raps on the door, followed by a squeaky, “It’s me, it’s me, _sorry_!”

Sirius pulled open the door to reveal a wild-looking Peter Pettigrew, panting and sweating in the doorway.

“So nice of you to join us Wormy,” James intoned drily. “Hope we aren’t pulling you away from anything too important.”

Peter laughed nervously. “No, of course not, you know I know how important the full –” he broke off with a squeak and began rubbing at a red spot on his arm that Rose could’ve sworn hadn’t been there a moment ago.

“How important the full group being together on camping night is,” James finished smoothly.

Peter was nodding, red-faced. “Yes, yes, camping,” he stuttered out.

Remus sighed.

“_Well_, we should be off,” Sirius drawled slowly, and the rest of the boys nodded.

Rose waggled her fingers glumly. “Bye then.”

“Oh. Hello there.” Peter, who’d finally looked over at her and Lily, slowly straightened and adopted a sort of sickly, simpering smile, extending a hand. “Sorry, didn’t see you there. I don’t think we’ve been introduced – Peter. Peter Pettigrew. And you, Miss…?”

Rose just stared down at him as Peter stared back, clutching her hand in his, tongue darting out to lick at his lips.

“Oh, for the love of – Merlin’s pants, Wormtail, how thick are you?” Sirius was looking a bit green. He yanked Peter backwards. “That’s _Rose_, you git.” 

Peter’s watery eyes widened, darting back and forth nervously.

“Well, I think now’s as good a time as any to take our leave,” Remus said wryly, opening the front door. “Bye Lily. Bye Rose.”

As the door shut, the two witches could hear the muffled hisses of a conversation.

“…you thinking, mate?”

“…blonde…completely different …I supposed to know? _Ow!_ Stop pinching, James!”

Lily grinned, ignoring the steadily fainter dialogue outside. “Now we can have a bit of sister time, just the two of us. _Oh!_” Her eyes lit up, delighted. “We can plan your sixteenth! Only a couple of days away now – you’ll have to tell me what you’d like.”

“Yeah, okay,” Rose said quietly.

Lily beamed. “Perfect.”

“Yeah,” Rose echoed faintly. “Perfect.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very big thank you to everyone who left kudos/comments! Until next week!


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